Soldiers of a Different Kind (Revised)
by SCM7
Summary: In the closing days of the Requiem Occupational Campaign, a SPARTAN-IV fireteam goes AWOL, heading after a supposed Forerunner technology cache. Deemed KIA by the UNSC Infinity's command crew in the aftermath of the Shield World's destruction, the UNSC moved on, unknowing of the partial success of the Fireteam's mission...
1. 1: Waste Not the Opportunity

**CHAPTER ONE  
SHIELD WORLD 0001 - REQUIEM  
'LOCKUP' FACILITY  
FEBRUARY 19th, 2558**

Lieutenant Matt Clarke stepped away from the glowing hard-light hologram showing the inner surface of the artificial planet. Ignoring the two coloured dots on the Forerunner artifact- those were problems that Fireteams Majestic and Crimson were dealing with, not directly important to Fireteam Apex's current plans - he focused in on a single continent, and then looked to the 'west' coast of it.

Thirty dots glimmered over the ocean. Clarke checked his wrist-mounted PDA once more, confirming the data link between the device and the Forerunner holographic projector was working correctly. The information matched the coordinates dredged up by _Infinity_ Science almost to within a 97% margin of error.

And if _Infinity_ Science knew about this… then ONI sure as hell did too.

 **FOUR DAYS EARILER – FEBRUARY 15th, 2558  
GD79-TC PELICAN STRONGARM-54  
EN ROUTE TO FORERUNNER STRUCTURE DESIGNATED 'BEACON'**

"Hey, LT, how much further do we have to fly?" Staff Sergeant Richard Dixon Michaelson – SIV-318 – called from across the transport's cargo bay. His answer wasn't delayed.

"What, would you like to walk instead? We've crossed over three rivers already – and I didn't much appreciate their texture to boot. If we were on foot, by the time we got there, the Covies might have either activated the Forerunner tech inside - which would be bad for everybody involved - or our job would be stolen by one of the other fireteams who didn't have a flight-ophobe on board."  
"Hey, I have a bad feeling about flying in one of these buckets. They were made by the lowest bidder, you know!"

"Oy, what are you saying about my bird?" A voice snapped out from the pilot's cabin – the third member of Fireteam Apex, SIV-307 Corporal Peter Samuels.  
"Nothing, just that it's a pile of scrap that will be turned into a cloud of free-floating particles the second one of those Forerunner anti-air cannons glances in its vague direction."  
"No offense, but have you seen what Forerunner technology is capable of? The average Forerunner AAA system is a bit above what the designers had in mi-"  
"Enough," That was the fourth – and final – member of Fireteam Apex: Sergeant Jeremy Martinez, SIV-322. "Both of you. Quiet."

A red light flashed on in the troop bay, immediately followed by the Spartan aviator's voice. "LZ coming into view, looks like the Covies have detected us."  
"Oh great, now comes the fuel rod cannons, then the screaming, then the fiery crash."  
"Shh. Pete, give them a taste of the missile pods."  
"Aye, sir." Corporal Samuels responded, before triggering the two missile pods mounted on the left wing of the airframe, both of which let loose a flurry of ANVIL-III missiles. The ordnance sped across the gap between the Pelican, and impacted the two Phantoms lifting off from the clearing in front of the Forerunner spire. The result was rather energetic as both Covenant transport craft detonated in brilliant blue-purple explosions. The Covenant still on the ground started to retreat inside, but were subsequently turned into a variety of multi-colored mist clouds by the Pelican's 70mm chin-mounted rotary-barreled autocannon.

The Pelican quickly swung around, dropping off the designated ground-pounding SPARTAN-IVs, who used their suits' built-in thruster packs to touch down safely in front of the tower. "We'll secure the structure, and hold it until the garrison troops arrive to fortify it. Pick us up then." Apex LEAD directed.  
"You got it, LT!" With that, the Pelican boosted off, to take up station to maintain air coverage for the team. One of the common complaints of various forward-operating Spartan teams was the unusual lack of top-cover - though Fireteam Crimson might never admit it, Fireteams Kodiak and Majestic were considerably more vocal. Spartan Miller, Crimson's immediate superior, always attempted to correct this injustice, but Spartan Commander Palmer continued to obstruct him unless it was absolutely necessary, like that one time that the Spartan team had successfully neutralized a Covenant warlord and had subsequently been pinned down by the frontline combat forces of the warlord's entire keep. In any case, Spartan Samuels was assigned to Apex as an aviator from the start, and his place seemed to be behind the controls of a Pelican.

The team quickly proceeded into the Forerunner structure. Aside from an internal rear-guard of Major-rank Sangheili, there were no other enemies inside - and the Spartan fireteam soon figured out why. Sentinels were floating around in the various upper levels, the ground littered with Covenant corpses, their armor smoking from energy weapon burns. Oddly enough, the Sentinels on Requiem never attacked UNSC forces, although they were more than hostile to Covenant soldiers and Promethean constructs. Still, the soldiers of Fireteam Apex gave the Forerunner robots a wide berth.

Very quickly, they cleared the site, and placed beacons of their own down for ordnance pods to be dropped next to their position. Far beneath them, they saw a single Covenant soldier run out of the structure - apparently having been very well hidden during their sweep. Sergeant Martinez brought up his sniper rifle, taking aim at the Sangheili General's back, and letting off three successive shots. The warrior stumbled, his shields popping. A fourth shot took it in the arm, removing the limb entirely, while putting the Covenant warrior on the ground. As APEX FOUR reached down for another magazine, the ordnance pods arrived. Two went wide of the tower, one of which landed somewhere in the treeline - and the second dropped on the gold-armored Elite's head, far below. Through Sergeant Martinez's scope, he saw the low-cut grass around the top of the alien's body take on a purple color.

Fireteam Apex rapidly moved back down to the bottom level, checking each and every possible nook and cranny on their way down. Once they got to the ground floor, they noticed something different. An entire inner wall of the facility had vanished, revealing a chamber that was not there before. In the center of the chamber, an energy shield had been raised, covering a Zealot Elite, who was doing… something… with a piece of Forerunner technology. Between them and the Zealots, however, were ten Jackals, three General Elites with swords- and a single, massive Hunter, its armor scorched by what was most likely a concentrated barrage of Sentinel Beams.

"Take cover!" As Lieutenant Clarke uttered the order, Forerunner portable cover walls popped up in front of his team, which they were quick to hop behind. Moving their guns out of cover, they used their smart-linked scopes to deliver precision hits without exposing their bodies to danger- for the most part. The Jackals died quickly, knocked off balance by a shot to their partially exposed arm and then finished off by shots to the head. The Generals were tougher to deal with- and they were closing fast. One of them was suddenly cut off by a cover-wall popping up in front of it, with the Covenant soldier slamming into it at full tilt.

The other two Generals were almost within range, when Fireteam Apex popped back up with their scavenged Plasma Pistols equipped. Two overcharged blasts later, the generals were unshielded- easy prey for Rick's M395 Designated Marksman Rifle. The Elites were quickly dispatched, the third Elite nailed with a plasma pistol shot and then drilled between the eyes shortly after navigating around the cover wall. And then the Hunter finally decided to join the battle.

The next few minutes consisted of a mad scramble around the room, searching for a Forerunner weapons cache, a Covenant supply station, anything with the firepower capable of taking down a raging Mgalekgolo.

In the middle of the battle, the Forerunner device activated, showing a large star map, with a list of coordinates. The Zealot pushed down on a single set- which zoomed in on a landmass, with dots hovering over the shore.

As if in response to the activation of the Forerunner artifact, a humming noise echoed through the chamber - the sound of a swarm of approaching Sentinels. White-hot energy beams cut through the air, cleaving into the Hunter, burning into its gestalt body of worms - and emerging out the other side. The hulking colony fell apart, its components clattering to the floor.

Fireteam Apex turned to the Zealot, who glared at the group, before grabbing two plasma grenades and sticking them to the Forerunner artifact in the center of the room. A flash of blue- and the artifact was destroyed, as was the suicidal Sangheili. With all hostiles dead, the Sentinels swiveled around on the spot and headed for the entrance to the structure. As soon as they reached the threshold of the outer door of the complex, slipspace micro-portals whirled into existence and carried the Sentinels to their next destination, wherever it might be. The fireteam took a moment to watch the constructs exit the structure, before calling the situation in to their bird on overwatch. "Fireteam Apex reporting in. Beacon structure secured, Covenant presence neutralized. Send in the Troopers whenever you're ready."

Within the next thirty minutes, UNSC Army Pelicans arrived, dropped off their complement of troops and Warthogs before blasting off, likely returning to _Infinity_ to pick up more. The Troopers began setting up automated turrets in the entrance hall and the ground level of the facility, as per initial fortification procedures.

After the Spartan reconnaissance group had finished assisting the Army Troopers with setting up their defense network, Strongarm-54 swept in to pick up Fireteam Apex.

"So, what did you find down there, LT?" Corporal Samuels asked, shortly after the fireteam had departed solid ground.  
"Hell if I know- the Covenant destroyed it too quickly. Isn't doing so a sin in their culture?"  
"You can never tell with these fanatics." Michaelson smirked, before continuing. "It could be completely swell to perform one day and the worst heresy the next."  
Spartan Martinez grunted what was most likely an affirmation.

 **'LOCKUP' FACILITY  
FEBRUARY 19th, 2558**

Lieutenant Clarke pulled up his comm system. "How much time do we have left?"

The answer was swift. "Three hours, LT, then we're all taking a stellar bath in Epoloch."  
"Thanks for the mental image, Samuels. I'm ready for pick-up."  
His teammate chuckled. "Affirmative, be there in a few seconds."  
"A few seconds? Where are you, Corporal?" As if on cue, a Pelican suddenly broke through the cloud layer, flying towards the Lockup Cartographer. "…Holy shit, you still have that ONI bird."  
"Damn right, especially for this mission you have us set up for."

Clarke was silent for a second. "How'd you get it again?"

"You really don't want to know. I'm currently squawking as a Marine transport, but it's only a matter of time before the spooks find out that their Pelican probably isn't coming back."  
"…Right." Clarke paused again, before inquiring; "How many Marines were you able to convince to come along?"  
"Twenty-six able-bodied soldiers. Managed to rope in four flyboys as well. They brought their own birds too!"

"That's more than I was expecting. What do they fly?" Clarke reaches down into the Cartographer, pulling out four data collection devices. The map display shuts off, the relevant information downloaded onto the data sticks.  
"Two Broadswords and one Longsword, why do you ask? They'll be on station in… well, whenever they can weasel away from the evacuation duties at Firebase Titan."  
"Just curious." Walking forward, Lieutenant Clarke stepped off the edge of the tower, and slightly dropped into the cargo bay of the Pelican without missing a beat. The doors closed behind him, and he felt the slight pull of G-forces as the afterburners kicked in…

 **ONE HOUR LATER  
REQUIEM EASTERN CONTINENT- 80 KILOMETERS OFFSHORE**

 **ONI D79S-TC PELICAN – GOLF-33**

 **TWO HOURS BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

"Well, that's certainly a sight."

Clarke had to agree with his aviator teammate.

An entire Forerunner battlefleet hung suspended in mid-air. Seeing it on the map was impressive enough. Being up close, however, was entirely different. The cloaked Pelican flew next to what Requiem's Cartographer systems had identified as a Sojourner-class dreadnought, both unnamed and never manned. "Why is ONI not all over this already?"

Clarke had expected a large Covenant force to be salvaging the fleet. Instead, the ships appeared virtually untouched, despite the Covenant having a near-uncontested grasp of Requiem during the three months it took for the UNSC Home Fleet to rebuild itself after that monumental Covenant-controlled Forerunner vessel had blown through them and… done something to New Phoenix. And then the other three months where an expeditionary force was drawn up to contest the shield world, blocked by defense-oriented bureaucracy and… other complications. There were special operations groups sent in the interim period, but nothing that could actually take and hold ground.

The only signs of Covenant activity was a quintet of CRS light cruisers and a RPV destroyer hovering around what could only be the flagship of the fleet, a fifty-kilometer-long spear-like vessel that bore more than a passing resemblance to the former capital of the Covenant, High Charity. Only the RPV remained mobile, as the CRSs had landed on the immense bulk of the ship, most likely being repurposed as forward bases.

The Pelican slowly crept in towards their evident goal, using a derelict transport vessel as top cover. "Right then," Samuels groaned, before swiveling his gaze in the direction of his team leader. "Where do we go?"

"It will take us too long to get to the bridge if we use the hangars. The Covenant are likely to have them locked down already, anyway. Aeona, any suggestions?"

A noticeable pause rolled through the cockpit, before TEAMCOM spiked with the UNSC archaeological intelligence's reply. _"Ah, apologies. The Lockup Cartographer had a lot of information in it… right, entry onto… ah, the ship's name is_ Red Light of Dying Stars _. Ironic, given our-"_

"Aeona, we have less than two hours before _we_ die in a star. Entry point?"

 _"_ _Er, from outside scans, the Covenant have not yet discovered a hangar on the underside of the ship… oh, but that's more than three hours from the bridge, given the translocator pads in that section aren't powered up…"_

An emerald wireframe representation of the Fortress spun up in the top left corner of the fireteam's collective VISR displays, several sections highlighted orange to mark ingress points. A distressing amount of them subsequently flicked to a bluish-purple color, indicating Covenant control. Eventually, only the aforementioned distant hangar remained… and a massive chamber near the base of the dome structure, easily enough to hold _Infinity_ as a whole with space left over.

 _"_ _Spartan Samuels, how good are you at the controls of a Pelican?"_ the AI inquired.

"I was born on one, is that good enough?"

 _"…_ _There is one other point of entry that we can make use of, and we have the Covenant to thank for it!"_

"What?"

 _"_ _Well, passive defenses would deflect the attempt under any other circumstances, but the Covie salvagers have disabled those particular systems. Unknowingly, most likely. Hopefully."_

"And how do we get from here to there?"

 _"_ _On a standard Pelican, we couldn't. But… the Pelicans on_ Port Stanley _seem to have some… interesting modifications. One of which being… a slipspace drive."_

A beat of silence passed, before Peter shattered the calm. "…Wait, this bird has a slipspace drive? Damn! What else are the spooks holding from the rest of us? I could've done so much more with this!"

"Apex Three, think you can put us in that space?"

"…No way. Flying is one thing, but a precision jump like that? You'd need someone…" he trailed off.

"Someone… like Aeona."

The smugness in the synthetic intelligence's voice was palpable, as she chimed in again. _"And that was what I was working on earlier. Just plug me in."_

Samuels grumbled, "I don't like backseat pilots…"

 _"_ _Oh, that's disappointing. I would schedule you an appointment with one of Infinity's psychiatric personnel for self-help, but I would assume that ONI would pick up on and trace the transmission with quite a fervor."_

Michaelson clipped in over TEAMCOM. "I got some bio-foam for that burn if you want some."

Peter spluttered ineffectively, before patching the intelligence into the flight controls. "Once you're done, I want you out, okay? I like flying. I don't like other people flying for me."

 _"_ _Plotting slipspace transition."_ The Pelican came to a stop at the edge of the gap between the transport craft and the Fortress. _"…Plotting finished. Transition in five seconds."_

 **FORERUNNER WARSHIP – FOREST**

 **SOMEWHERE IN THE FOREST**

 **ONE HOUR FORTY-NINE MINUTES BEFORE FOREST DESTRUCTION**

Vork was bored. 'Take the Unggoy and scout the ship,' the puffed-up Sangheili officer had barked at him. That had been more than three days ago, and he had had no contact since then. No contact, other than additional cannon fodder trickling down from the command deck to replace the ones the T'vaoan Kig-Yar had 'lost'.

His current location suited him much too well to bother continuing his assigned tasks. A dark forest, reminiscent of those on that arboreal world his kith had set up their raiding home-base on, back before Jul'Mdama had come along and roped his shipmistress into signing on with his newborn Covenant, now served as his new home. And the Unggoy that wandered in? His prey.

He could hear the scared whimpers of a file of the gas-suckers at this very moment. The unfortunates had already lost two of their number, one being taken in front of them – that particular kill was exhilarating. He wondered if this was what his distant ancestors were like, before T'vao was even colonized…

As it was, the Unggoy were pinned up in a series of closely planted trees. To his annoyance, he was unable to get them out, as in his haste to grab the fuel-rod toting Unggoy before the others could intervene, he had let slip his customized energy pistol, which one of the grubby creatures had seized in short order. Even if that hadn't happened, the tree was virtually bristling with the energy pistols carried by other Grunts, and that damned fuel rod cannon was also in their possession, though it only had one shot left.

The T'voan watched from the overgrowth as the Unggoy quibbled amongst themselves. They couldn't remain up there forever. Eventually either their own hunger would drive them down, or their gas packs would run dry. Vork had plenty of food back at his nest to wait them out.

What he wasn't expecting was a slipspace portal to tear open the tree – and the Unggoy – at the end of the grove, and one of the humans' dropships to swiftly emerge from the glimmering rift, plowing through half of the clump with no apparent difficulty, other than the strain the collision put on the shields. Vork was frozen into temporary inaction as half of his prey were simply squished against either the protective barrier or now equally airborne chunks of wood.

The aircraft ascended over the treetops, its wake shoving most of the surviving Unggoy from their various perches. Vork lay low until the human craft moved off, before moving forward – and stepping on cold metal. He bore his fangs in an approximation of a grin.

The human craft had splattered the thief that had stolen his custom pistol. And now he had it back.

His feathers ruffled with anticipation for the hunt. For a few seconds, other than the sound of the troopship's engines moving away, there was silence.

And then the squealing started.

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **ONI D79S-TC PELICAN – GOLF-33**  
 **ONE HOUR FORTY-SEVEN MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

"What is this place, Aeona?" Clarke inquired as he looked through the cockpit window, the built-in VISR system barely allowing him to see in the pitch darkness.

 _"_ _One moment. Plotting course to destination, waypoint system set. Transferring control back to Spartan Samuels."_

"Thanks," the Spartan in question grumbled, before slowing down as he followed the waypoint.

 _"_ _From what the Lockup Cartographer shows, this was to serve a purpose similar to Infinity's memorial park. There are five other… micro-refugia like it on this ship, each one with a different biome. These are places to allow… Warrior-Servants to relax."_

"Doesn't seem all that relaxing."

 _"_ _The power is barely on right now. With full power, this place has its own weather, its own day and night cycle – no, not just dimming the lights, but its own self-contained… artificial micro-star!"_

Clarke was speechless, before he grudgingly forced himself back onto the mission. "…Where are we heading now?"

 _"_ _There's a translocation pad down one of the hallways at the end of this micro-refugia. I can plug in there."_

"Do the Covenant know we're here yet?"

 _"_ _Comm chatter is picking up. Can't listen in, but I think they detected the slipspace rift. With luck, they'll expect it to be a Promethean incursion..."_

Less than a minute later, the Pelican arrived at its destination. The cockpit VISR detailed the landing zone; a hemispherical clearing easily large enough for the ONI bird to touch down, with a massive Forerunner wall stretching into the darkness cutting through the middle of the circle. Golf-33 pivoted around before its landing gear eased down, the back hatch now facing the marked access point. Clarke leaned down and tapped Samuels on the shoulder. "Pick out three Marines to stay with the Pelican, then follow along. We'll probably need you on the bridge when we take it."

That said, Apex LEAD turned towards the hatch leading into the troop bay, cracking the sliding door open and moving through. The Marines and Troopers didn't salute as he passed by. Good. Michaelson and Martinez stood at the very back of the cabin, the former facing forward while the latter was performing last minute check-ups on his armament. By the time Clarke got to the end of the bay, Fireteam Apex's sniper and resident gunsmith had finished.

"One small step, no?" Apex Two spoke. "First time a human's putting feet down on this ship, I bet."

Apex LEAD keyed the TEAMCOM-WIDE channel, allowing the Marines and Troopers to listen in. "Apex Four and I will take point, and act as recce. Apex Three will take center. Apex Two, you're on our six. Three Troopers stay with the Pelican, and stay INSIDE the Pelican. It does have active camouflage capabilities. Use them." He paused before continuing. "We have officially gone AWOL from the UNSC, and stolen a nice piece of aerospace engineering from the Office of Naval Intelligence. And all of this means nothing if we don't get to the bridge within an estimated hour and thirty minutes, because we're all boiling in a star after that. But with this in mind, I have to advise that you don't do anything stupid. Do not think that any of you are expendable or that your lives mean nothing. I know that some Spartan Fireteams might act in such manner as to consider un-augmented personnel worthless and cannon fodder, but… we are all in this together. Apex Three?"

The corresponding SPARTAN-IV's status light lit up green on the fireteam leader's HUD.

"Pop the hatch."

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **ARBOREAL MICRO-REFUGIA**  
 **ONE HOUR FORTY-ONE MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

Spartan Jeremy Martinez was the first to make footfall on _Red Light of Dying Stars_. Less than thirty meters ahead was their first on-foot waypoint. Both Apex LEAD and Apex Four approached it at the same time, the two Spartans armed with BR85 battle rifles.

The door split apart as they got within five meters of it, the segmented sections sliding into the wall around the now-exposed path. Dim Covenant lighting barely illuminated the hall. If the Spartans did not have working VISRs, they would have been in a rather perilous predicament. Even as such, the duo moved forward cautiously, checking each and every corner for hidden hostiles or traps, and finding nothing.

They finished their sweep within six minutes, coming to a dead end. One hour and twenty-three minutes still on the clock. Clarke clicked twice on TEAMCOM-WIDE, signalling the second group to move up, before inquiring over standard TEAMCOM, "Now what, Aeona?"

 _"_ _Put your palm against… oh. There's no data pedestal… one moment." A second went by, then another. "Look, I'm… not in the ship's system. I'm just reading schematics. I need something in the system to reach out to me in order to have a way in, and I need a way in to give the system a reason to reach out."_

Clarke took a deep breath, his head beginning to hurt. "So… what, we're stuck?"

 _"_ _No… well, yes, but I'm working on-"_

"Is this translocation pad active?" Spartan Martinez asked, stepping forward and pointing to a slightly raised section of the hallway's floor.

 _"_ _Partially-"_

"How did the Forerunners use it?"

 _"_ _Um… through their armor, or with ancilla – AI – assistance. The Covenant… oh! The Covenant have hooked up a panel of their own to control it… from the other side. One moment…"_

Two halves of an archway rose from the raised section, a controlled slipspace rift spinning up in the center. " _Picking up increased Covenant chatter. Unencrypted frequency. Basic translation is… that one of their scouting parties has likely run into more Sentinel defenses and now requires replacements for lost Grunts. Oh, this particular station has requested new Unggoy on a regular basis, apparently… uh-oh."_

"What is it?"

 _"_ _Bad news and good news. Bad news, a Hunter pair is moving towards the portal, and they have four Major Elites with heavy weapons in tow. They'll be through in about two minutes."_

Clarke clicked to TEAMCOM-WIDE, even as he and Martinez sprinted for cover. "Two Hunters with an Elite heavy weapons quartet coming through the portal. Anybody with heavy weapons of their own, you have under a minute to form up on us. Everybody else, get into cover."

The sound of boots ringing on metal closed with the two foremost Spartans as six of the unaugmented soldiers emerged from the darkness surrounding the hall. Two had M41 SSR launchers, while another two had reloadable tubes for the same. Another one carried an ARC-920 'railgun', and the sixth…

Clarke blinked as the Trooper in question took up position alongside him, hefting her M6 directed energy nonlinear cannon, known by most UNSC personnel as the Spartan Laser. Across the hall from his small group, the Marine railgunner crouched low to the ground, ready to shoot – only to partially lower his weapon in shock as Jeremy put away his BR85 in exchange for one of the massive rifles he was carrying on his back.

The ARC-920 was a coilgun. Spartan Martinez' weapon was more of a coil-cannon. The man already had a reputation on _Infinity_ for pushing the boundaries of what could be considered man-portable weaponry, even before one of his custom-made weapons ended up mutilating his left arm with its colossal recoil. Back during the time of the Beacon raid, Martinez used to carry around a 37mm anti-everything coil-rifle. They had talked about it on the way down, and the Spartan had agreed to put it aside for that one mission. The risk of collateral damage was too great, especially with – as they found out later – Sentinels active in the area.

Jeremy had bestowed it the name 'Jeb', now affectionately remembered in passing as Jeb I. It had been destroyed on a black ops mission nearly a day after the Beacon mission. The only salvageable portion had been the trigger assembly and stock, as the rest was nothing more than scrap metal.

That had been Jeb I. The weapon now being brought to bear in the direction of the portal was Jeb II. As the Marines took a moment to stare, the weapon began to charge up, emitting a low whine…

"Aeona, one question before we get bogged in?"

" _Shoo- wait, yes?"_

"What's the good news?"

 _"_ _Oh, when the Covenant activated the translocation pad to send their troops down, I managed to worm my way inside – no pun intended. Once you've eliminated this kill lance, we can move on the bridge."_

"Terrific."

Less than seven seconds later, the hulking form of a Mgalekgolo lumbered out of the rift. As it raised its foot up to take a step forward, Martinez opened up.

A 20mm shell from Jeb II took flight, flashing across the span between the coil-cannon and the Hunter, and punched into the stalk of worms that passed for its neck. A screech of agony rose up from inside the gestalt's protective carapace as the creature's pseudo-head disconnected from the rest of the colony within. The collection of creatures stumbled back, possibly due to shock incurred from the sudden loss of its sensory limb, and bumped into a just-translocated Major-rank Sangheili.

The Elite's shields prevented him from being skewered by the wounded Mgalekgolo's spines, but the threat of such forced the warrior to take a hurried step backwards – and right back through the portal.

Jeb II discharged again, a second 20mm shell blazing forward to connect with the gestalt's charging fuel rod cannon, which brewed up violently upon impact. The creature's bellowing drastically increased in volume as it collapsed, the stump of its neck wriggling violently as the worms composing the colony attempted to squirm free of their scorched carapace. The Marine railgunner immediately put an end to the creatures' bid for escape. Two incendiary grenades from the rocket resupply Marines set fire to the rest of the carapace, effectively sentencing the worms still within to certain immolation.

A second Major Sangheili charged from the rift, energy sword aflame, bellowing out a war cry in its native language. One M19 SSM later, the Sangheili had ceased to exist outside of a carbonized upper torso. A third Elite tore out of the rupture almost immediately after the second, and was knocked down by the blast. Clarke immediately put a three-round burst into the Covenant soldier's head to make sure it stayed down.

Aeona let out a disgusted groan as the bullets silenced the third Elite forever. " _Given what just happened, I would posit that the translocation systems on board_ Red Light _are not running at optimal-"_

"Aeona? Not right now."

" _I just wished to inform you that two Sangheili will no longer be coming through the portal, and have been rendered decisively no longer capable of combat. Or anything else, for that matter. The second Hunter, however, will transition through in approximately-_ "

The gestalt creature in question charged out of the slipspace portal, its head tucked in close and its shield raised. The fuel rod cannon fused to its right arm discharged almost immediately, the emerald beam lighting up the entire hallway as it snapped past the forward element of their boarding party.

" _Now."_

Even as screams erupted down the hall, the rocket-armed Marine duo let their payloads fly, scoring two direct hits on the creature's head. A third rocket subsequently spat from its tube to connect with the Mgalekgolo's exposed feet as the second rocket team began to reload their SPNKR. The Army Trooper with the Spartan Laser fired off the charge she had spun up, blasting the hulking gestalt's fuel rod cannon. Unlike with its bond brother, the cannon failed to brew up as violently due to a lack of a preparatory charge, but was rendered combat ineffective all the same.

Spartan Martinez dropped to the floor, prone. A brilliant point of blue light coalesced at the tip of the coil-cannon's third barrel, before leaping forward and connecting with the onrushing Mgalekgolo's armored foot.

The creature stumbled, off-balance. Its shield hit the ground in an attempt to stabilize itself, opening its chest area up to inbound fire from the left side of the hall… and only Spartan Clarke's BR85 responded.

With the sole exception of Clarke unloading multiple three-round bursts of 9.5x40mm into the creature's armored torso – to no effect, as the exposed section of the gestalt's waist remained mostly sheltered by the nanolaminate shield, nobody else engaged.

Everybody else in their assault group was either busy reloading, recharging, or didn't have a shot in the case of the railgunner to the right of the weapon-smith.

The Mgalekgolo growled and attempted to take a step forward, to at least bring itself into melee range with the prone Spartan, to crush the armored bug that had hobbled it. Jeremy retaliated by shifting his cannon to the left and firing again, targeting the worm-colony's other foot. The gestalt crashed to the ground, now feebly attempting to drag itself forward with its shield-arm.

The railgunner next to Martinez took his shot at the creature's neck-tendril, now just barely exposed to fire from his angle. The hypervelocity 16x65mm shell struck true, splattering bits of Lekgolo worms all over and effectively severing the gestalt's sensory limb. In the same manner as its bond brother, the worms immediately began to attempt to leave, squirming out of every possible hole in the armor. The laser-armed Trooper fired again, her weapon having finished both cooling down from her initial strike and recharging for a second one. Jeb II's concentrated energy beam joined it, both directed energy weapons burning deep inside the carapace and essentially vaporizing whatever biological material either touched. Another two incendiary grenades put a decisive end to the threat.

Clarke sucked in a breath, before directing his attention towards his fellow Spartan, then back to the burning Hunter. A few seconds passed by as he took in the sight of the creature's noticeably severed feet, cut clean off with a diagonal stroke.

"Martinez."

Silence over TEAMCOM.

"What did you make?"

"…Focused Spartan Laser. Compressed the beam to five millimeters in width. No loss of power. Beam lasts longer, too. Could stand to be improved more."

"GodDAMN," the railgunner bellowed over the same channel. "Improved more? Do you take commissions?"

Clarke fell silent, his mind immediately switching gears. He quickly keyed the extended TEAMCOM channel, and was immediately confronted with the sounds of either a Marine or Trooper screaming in agony.

"APEX THREE, SITREP!"

"We've lost Specialist Duncan and PFC Benson. Lance Corporal MacDonald's circling the drain, sir. Medic's currently trying to stabilize him, but…"

"APEX TWO stays with the medic, everybody else double time it to our current position and hold here. We'll continue ahead, clear out the bridge approach."

"Copy, LEAD."

Clarke switched back to the forward assault squad's TEAMCOM. "SPC Duncan and PFC Benson are dead. That damn fuel rod beam cooked them. We are not going to let their deaths be in vain. Martinez?"

A simple blip of APEX FOUR's status light was his only reply.

"We're going to need that cutting beam again."

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **BRIDGE APPROACH CORRIDOR**

 **ONE HOUR TWENTY-NINE MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

Clarke was the first one through the portal, hauling one of the Mgalekgolo's massive nanolaminate shields, the machinery in his armor whining under the strain of lifting the block of starship-grade armor. Judging by the sudden flurry of projectiles and plasma that immediately greeted him, it was most certainly worth the expenditure of energy.

All he had to do was continue to move forward, no matter how much of a pounding he was taking. He just hoped that he wouldn't push past a Covenant emplacement by mistake and get lit up from the side.

Every inch gained was hell, in regards to both the incoming fire and the effort of lifting the slab of material. Step. Step. Step.

"LEAD. Stop. I have the target. Taking the shot."

Whether or not the sniper had indeed opened fire, Clarke could not be certain. All that was apparent to him was being trapped behind a heavy piece of Covenant nanolaminate while what felt like every single ranged weapon in the infantry arsenal of Jul'Mdama's Covenant bombarded his position. He could vaguely hear voices over TEAMCOM, but as to what they were saying, he had no clue. Eventually, however, the snap of UNSC sniper rifles and the semi-unique sound of Jeb II discharging began to overcome the slowly-decreasing cacophony of inbound hostile fire.

And with a sudden burst of violence, the shooting ceased.

"LEAD. Targets neutralized."

" _Aeona reporting in. I've managed to gain control over the barricades and other forms of cover in this section. All that's left to deal with is the group on the bridge._ "

Clarke took multiple deep breaths before setting the shield down and gazing over its well-battered surface, before looking up the corridor. Multiple Covenant defensive emplacements lay silent, their respective crews well and truly dead. A glance back showed a maze of chest-high barriers, some of which had UNSC personnel behind them, visible only by their rifles sticking out.

Clarke blinked, shaking his head to refocus on the mission. "APEX FOUR, next time, we get APEX TWO to be the wall."

 **FORERUNNER WARSHIP**

 **COMMAND DECK**

 **ONE HOUR BEFORE IMMOLATION**

General Lekt'Narche, former shipmaster of the _Proverbial Truth_ – a long-range missionary ship, barely larger than the equivalent of a hundred-fifty meters, and with no offensive capabilities other than droning on and on about how great and powerful the Covenant Empire was… before his 'promotion' to mere navigator of a generic battlecruiser less than three cycles before the fall of the Covenant itself – seethed with rage as the humans drew close to their position. How they had snuck past the picket force outside was not yet apparent. Their reinforcements, however, were not as stealthy as the initial boarding party apparently was, as the pursuing Seraph heavy fighters and Banshee strike craft could attest to. The human pilots, annoyingly, continued to weave around the derelict holy vessels that Jul'Mdama had tasked him to retrieve, preventing the shipmaster of the light destroyer that headed up his naval picket from bringing its weaponry to bear.

Lekt strode across the command deck, his clawed fingers flowing across one of the few interfaces their huragok had managed to bend to their will. Every last possible warrior on board was being directed to shore up their defense, and to catch the human assault force between two unyielding legions.

And just in case those defenses would fail… he still had a way out, a place to where he could retreat to. As the sound of human weapons fire drew closer, as the humans overwhelmed the meager few files stationed near the bridge, he set the retreat plan in motion.

First, to arm the vessel's self-destruct sequence – or the makeshift version of it, attained by overcharging the warship's antimatter cannons and deactivating their containment fields. Targeting was still out of their capabilities, and only a number of the ship's cannons could be brought online, but it would still be enough. Or, at least, the lead Huragok had said as much… to its Unggoy friend, who had relayed it to the General. The same Unggoy which had been sent down to deal with that T'voan pest lurking in that accursed forest…

The next objective was to prepare the portal device off-set in the next chamber over. If the holy flagship were to be destroyed, he would at least bring one of the hook-ships back to Jul'Mdama. His own crew were hard at work preparing it to deploy immediately, all they were waiting for was his signal.

The General glanced over his shoulder at the closed chamber hatch, setting a timer for the portal to activate, and then another timer for the ship's weapons to begin their fatal sequence.

The increasing volume of human weaponry told him everything he needed to know. Reinforcements wouldn't arrive in time, and the three Zealots and single Mgalekgolo on the bridge would be insufficient to ho – ' _Wait, three? Where-_ '

The veteran Sangheili warrior gazed upon the room, his eyes eventually settling in on a spot near one of the consoles. The familiar shimmer of active camouflage soothed his nerves… until he noticed the arm sticking out from behind the console.

The Sangheili arm.

Lekt bellowed a warning, before grabbing his needler from his side and spraying in the figure's general direction. The other three Zealots turned to face the intruder, their own camouflage systems concealing them from visual detection.

A blinding beam – comparable in intensity to that of an energy projector, albeit on multiple orders-of-magnitude smaller than such – flashed across the room, burning into the Mgalekgolo's unarmored back and slicing the walking tank in two, before continuing on to do the same to one of his Zealots, who either failed to duck at the proper time, or failed to duck far enough.

'Narche slammed his hand on the display, both cycling open the escape chamber's hatch and activating the translocator pad. He sprinted for the escape route, barely flinching as something fast flew past him and smashed into the wall to his left.

And then he was in the chamber, and quickly thereafter, through the portal.

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **BRIDGE**

 **FIFTY-FIVE MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

' _Targets on left, dead. Target on right, dead. One escaped._ '

Jeb II was currently combat ineffective, both of its weapon systems either reloading or recharging. The remaining Zealot would be upon him before his weapon was ready to fire again. And so he set it aside, leaning it against the console to his left. Calmly, he drew his own blade, a more conventionally-designed energy machete, and settled into a defensive stance, decloaking as he did so.

The Sangheili responded in the same manner, both decloaking and then engaging its standard-Hesduros-pattern energy sword.

Jeremy feinted to the left, which the Sangheili immediately countered, quickly drawing up its own blade, nearly cleaving the Spartan's arm off if he wouldn't have pulled back. So he was dealing with a skilled swordsman. For a second, the weapon-smith pondered if perhaps this warrior was onboard one of the ships that had glassed Meridian.

It was the Zealot's 'turn' to attack. It unleashed a flurry of short cuts, every third strike forcing the Spartan to concede ground. Yes. A true sword-warrior. But perhaps not entirely a veteran.

For a veteran would use every available asset to win, and not hold themselves back for the concept of honor. "Don't lay down your life for your country, make the other bastard die for theirs," as the old adage went.

And that was why, after one close strike, the Zealot felt a heat source on its chest. It glanced down – saw the activated plasma grenade – then back up at empty space where its opponent used to be.

And when the room was showered by chunks of carbonated Sangheili, the veteran won.

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **BRIDGE**

 **FIFTY-TWO MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

Clarke and Samuels burst onto the bridge, weapons raised. Martinez sat on the ground near one of the rear consoles, cleaning his coil-cannon.

"You could have mentioned the bridge was clear. You're lucky we didn't toss some grenades in here."

"Already did that for you, LEAD. Plug your AI friend in."

"Aeona, where - ?"

" _Front of the room, next to that active panel._ "

"Got it." The Spartan strode to the console in question, removing Aeona's chip from his armor and placing it in the blinking slot on his HUD. The lights dimmed in response, before a soft hum rumbled through the ship.

Then Aeona's avatar appeared in the center of the room, at full human size. " _Very interesting_ ," the projection uttered, before throwing her hand out and pointing at the main console. " _Let there be life_ ," she declared, and all but three-quarters of the screens flicked on.

"Um, Aeona, you feeling okay? Because you're acting quite sket…"

" _Yeah, that was… sort of melodramatic, wasn't it? Sorry. It's just… impressive, is all. First, just need to… seal off the Covenant-controlled compartments, isolate the cruisers… don't worry, I won't destroy them… but that RPV out there…_ "

The lights flickered again. " _Interesting. There is another intelligence onboard this ship, connecting to it via Requiem. No, before you start shooting, it's not hostile… it's the Librarian. You should… thank her for our current ease, she's bringing as many systems online as she can. She's not a Warrior-Servant like the Didact, but she's… helping. She has a passing familiarity with these systems. She gave me control of the barriers back in the approach corridor. Oh! We can save the other ships too! The Librarian is currently initiating docking procedures, bringing the transports and dreadnoughts to dock on_ Red Light _!"_

"Can she download herself on-"

" _…_ _No. She has another destination in mind for herself, something called the… Record? Archive? Catalog?_ "

Peter chimed in. "So, when can we leave? We're about forty minutes away from being cooked by a sun, and we'd rather avoid that."

" _Once the other ships have doc- oh, you sly bugger!_ "

"Aeona?!"

" _The Sangheili that escaped, the General? He's started a countdown, an improvised self-destruct sequence. Both the Librarian and I have already defused the situation, but… I was wondering why one of the dreadnoughts wouldn't respond to our commands. He's on it! I'm trying to gum up his progress as best I can, but…_ "

"Can we bring the ship's cannons to bear-"

" _The Librarian will not allow it. Everything she is assisting us with is non-lethal. That's why that RPV is still intact, why I haven't destroyed those clouds of Covenant fighters… oh, speaking of which, I've translocated our three aviators inside. They're with the Pelican right now._ "

"She gave you control of the barricade system back in- wait, what did you just say?"

" _The act of giving us control of those systems was, in of itself, non-lethal. What happened afterwards was not her concern. Activating weaponry, however, is._ "

"What if I were to hop on the translocation pad he used, could she put me on that ship? The act of moving across vessels is, in of itself, non-lethal…"

" _…_ _Interesting. I don't know whether or not she's irritated or amused. Pad's active._ "

Clarke and Martinez took off running for the translocation chamber, both arriving at the same time. The fireteam's leader prepared to step through the portal, only for the gunsmith to halt him inches from the transition point, before pulling him away from the swirling slipspace vortex.

"Take this first." SPARTAN-IV-322 held out a weapon, a contraption that seemed to be composed of a M90 frame and a sewer pipe for a barrel. SIV-311 didn't want to ask for specifics.

"Um…" Nothing else came to mind, as thoughts of shattering shoulders sped through APEX LEAD's mind.

"Your service rifle might not do so well against a determined defense. We might only get one shot. You should make it count." Jeremy paused.

Clarke accepted the gun, albeit reluctantly, before facing the portal once more. He keyed his TEAMCOM channel. "Samuels, you're now acting commander of Fireteam Apex. If we're not back before the twenty-five minute mark, and that dreadnought's not flying a UNSC IFF, get Aeona to punch out of here."

With no other words, both SPARTAN-IVs stepped through the translocation portal…

 **FORERUNNER DREADNOUGHT**

 **BRIDGE**

 **THIRTY-FIVE MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

Clarke emerged on the other side, immediately greeted by a surprised Grunt. The diminutive creature shrieked, before igniting two energy blades on its gauntlets and charging.

The courage and conviction of his immediate challenger temporarily stunned the fireteam leader into shocked silence, allowing the vicious Grunt to leap upon the Spartan and slice deep, his energy gauntlets piercing through armor and flesh, the Unggoy letting out a scream of victory over the fallen UNSC soldier…

…Or, at least, that was the series of events the Unggoy conceived, squeaky noises of faux-combat and imagined death rattles eking through his mouth as he silently shook in place. The Demon however, did not seem to have moved from its spot… perhaps it really was stunned into silence at his magnificence and courage? Perhaps the legends truly were overstated? The Grunt took a step forward, its jaws opening to let out a deafening battle roar…

And pieces of Unggoy took flight across the command deck, followed by a muffled yell of anguish. ' _Should have expected that_ ,' Clarke thought to himself as he took cover behind the console formerly occupied and now covered by components of a rather courageous Unggoy. ' _Of course it's a bloody overengineered recoil monster, what else does Martinez make? Wait, where is-_ '

"DEMON! YOU MAY HAVE FOLLOWED, BUT YOU WILL NOT RETURN!"

A fuel rod blast took a massive bite out of his current cover, forcing the Spartan to sprint to the next console. A glance to his left showed nothing but the General, though given the prevalence of active camouflage, he couldn't be entirely sure if the shipmaster was alone.

Slipping into cover, the Spartan continued to slide forward, his movement assisted by his armor's built-in thrusters. Once three stations down, he keyed his own active camo equipment, then slipped through the space between his current console and the next to take a better look.

The room was built with one side higher than the other, out of direct sight from the commander station down below. Or, at least, what he supposed was the commander station, if the translocation pad that he arrived from was supposed to be the access point to the bridge. As of now, he had the high ground, but the lack of a good sight-line on the General below except in the dead center of the platform, parallel to the translocation pad, did not serve well as an advantageous position for either.

A sweep with VISR revealed two Zealots on either side of the lower command deck, both armed with Carbines. ' _Just two?_ ' the Spartan pondered. ' _Two Zealot bodyguards? Where's the rest?_ '

"Aeona, can you give us a scan of-?"

" _Three Sangheili detected inside this chamber. Several hundred more in the surrounding passages, as well as several thousand other Covenant biometric patterns. Considerable amount of weapons fire as well. They seem to be busy with a Promethean problem._ "

"Where's Martinez?"

" _Eight decks down. Something went wrong with the transit. Working to route him back up-_ "

A bellow echoed from below, both Zealots immediately opening fire on his position. Three shots connected before Clarke could pull himself back behind cover, which he immediately vacated afterwards, wary of the General and his fuel rod cannon. As expected, the console immediately suffered the same fate as the Grunt's old station, as did the next in line. SIV-311 scrambled along the floor as a rapid volley of fuel rod shots tore through every major piece of cover he could use. There was obviously some degree of customization evident in the fuel rod ammo too, as standard fuel rods usually didn't split apart into secondary submunitions after impact, either.

" _WATCH OUT FOR-_ "

One of the Zealots landed on the platform, almost directly in front of the UNSC soldier. Clarke barely managed to bring up his teammate's shotgun before the Sangheili warrior engaged its energy sword. He did not consider the ramifications, other than survival, of firing it with one hand.

The resulting recoil smashed his arm into the floor, while the discharged slug blew the Elite's upper torso apart. The Spartan screamed into his helmet, even as the medical systems in his MJOLNIR armor dumped painkillers and adrenaline into his system.

Two fuel rods smashed into the console he had taken cover behind. Clarke yelled again, shoving himself away from the slag heap that used to be a Forerunner control panel.

" _CONTACT BEHIND YOU!_ "

The Spartan flipped onto his back and fired another shot at the charging second Zealot. The head of the Sangheili simply ceased to exist, even as the recoil from Spartan Martinez' cannon slammed into his upper arm. SIV-311 subsequently triggered his thruster pack, propelling him head-first along the curved path ahead, avoiding the inbound fuel rod shots from the enraged General below. Towards his feet, he saw console after console explode under a murderous barrage… which unexpectedly ceased.

"CLARKE, THE GENERAL'S RELOADING! HIT HIM NOW!"

Flipping over once again, the Spartan used APEX FOUR's shotgun as a cane, quickly hauling himself to his feet before reactivating his active camouflage module. The General, now standing in the center of the lower part of the bridge, was indeed reloading. One fuel rod cannon was tucked underneath its left arm, while that limb's hand was busy loading a magazine – likely filled with more fuel rods – into a second cannon. ' _That explains the rate of fire,_ ' Clarke thought, before grabbing a plasma grenade, primed it, then tossed the munition at the Sangheili.

To its credit, the Covenant officer reacted swiftly, tossing the unloaded cannon at the plasma grenade before sprinting to the left, back into its own cover, just long enough to reload its remaining weapon. The second it was finished, it popped out, and began to inundate the top of the dais with plasma fire, targeting anything that could even remotely provide the UNSC soldier with any cover.

Clarke vaulted over the slagged remains of the unfortunate Grunt's last station, hit the lower floor, and brought his weapon to bear on the General, held properly this time. SIV-311 mashed his finger down on the high-powered shotgun's trigger… and abruptly stopped his forward progress as the recoil from multiple consecutive shots punched him backwards.

The first slug shattered the General's shields.

The second shot turned its right flank into giblets of flesh, bone, and armor.

The third shot removed its head.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth shots missed their targets, flying down the elongated passageway that Clarke had presumed to be a command alcove or some such design.

There was no seventh shot. The gun clicked, its ammo supply expended.

Outside of the General's carcass collapsing to the floor, silence reigned. And then Clarke let out an anguished screech as the pain from his well and tenderized shoulder overwhelmed him. The shotgun freely dropped to the ground, as did the Spartan.

An alert beeped on his HUD, barely visible through the SPARTAN-IV's clouded vision as his armor's medical systems did everything possible to lessen the suffering from Spartan Jeremy Martinez' automatic jackhammer, including flooding his system with copious amounts of morphine. 'THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE EXPECTED PLANETARY DESTRUCTION.'

Clarke continued to writhe on the ground, though the pain from his shoulder was beginning to subside. It remained, however, so overwhelmingly intense that – when combined with the painkillers – the SPARTAN-IV had trouble fully maintaining consciousness. Voices drifted through his head, possibly a combination of drug-induced hallucinations and transmissions over local communications.

The sound of boots hitting metal closed with the temporarily-incapacitated Spartan, and hands quickly lifted him into a sitting position. Two UNSC medical personnel knelt on either side of him, running biometric scans, as three other UNSC soldiers stood in front, their weapons pointed down the expansive hall.

The room began to spin as Clarke opened and shut his eyes, trying to maintain focus on the task at hand. "Aeo… Aeola, wha... wha's happa…"

The walls to either side of the hallway shifted. That wasn't the painkillers. The walls actually moved.

"Get him to his feet," the Trooper in charge barked, "We're getting out of here, NOW!"

"Easier said than done, Issac!" One of the medical personnel snapped back, before putting the Spartan's arm over his back. The medic on the other side did the same, but neither were having much success.

Finally, everything snapped back into focus for the SPARTAN-IV as his suit jolted with electricity. He waved his arms backwards – ignoring the lance of fire that stabbed up his arm – and rolled onto his uninjured side, then completely over, before dragging himself to his feet.

"Spartan, the dreadnought's lost." One of the medics now holding onto his uninjured arm declared, his voice wobbling with just a slight amount of fear. "We can't salvage it, we have to head back to the flagship. There's just twenty-six minutes left. Your AI's got the slipspace drive all ready to go – CONTACT!"

Clarke jerked his head up towards the portal generator from which he – and the Marine reinforcements, apparently – had boarded from. The swirling slipspace rift had shut down, with a Promethean Knight warping in on its previous location. Two Watcher support constructs hovered in flanking positions. Clarke tried to instinctively bring his weapon to bear, but found himself frozen in place, his armor locking up. Every other solder seemed to be inhibited in the same manner.

" ** _Human. Are you attempting to steal my vessel as well?_** " The voice seared over the Spartan's communication system. " ** _The Librarian arranged to give your species the Mantle of Responsibility. The Librarian is not on this craft. Her imprint has departed Requiem, and she has taken her Sentinels as well._** "

Another alert blinked on his HUD. 'TWENTY-FIVE MINUTES LEFT BEFORE EXPECTED PLANETARY DESTRUCTION.'

" ** _This Covenant has doomed Requiem, and all those that remain on the world. I shall not allow this vessel to suffer the same fate._** "

The raised section became flush with the floor in a swift, smooth motion, with the rest of the command chamber continuing to shift around. The damaged consoles evaporated, replaced with untouched and unsoiled Forerunner material.

" ** _The only reason you are still alive is on behalf of the Librarian,"_** the Knight growled. " ** _No human, be they made of technology or flesh, will ever command MY ship, not while my data core is intact._** "

" _ **This vessel's outbound translocation capabilities are damaged, likely the result of tampering by this self-declared Covenant. You wouldn't have been able to make the transit back to**_ **Red Light of Dying Stars** _ **… in the same format as you came.**_ "

" _ **I have taken the liberty of bringing all four of your designated smallcraft onboard this vessel from the flagship. You will be permitted to leave after we depart this condemned world, and rejoin your fellows onboard the Fortress. I shall uphold the Librarian's edict. In return, I will take this vessel, and seek out… others.**_ "

The Knight Commander's rear spines twitched, and its head inclined upwards.

" _ **The moment of immolation approaches. Plotting transition. Lochagos rises.**_ "

 **FORERUNNER FORTRESS –** ** _RED LIGHT OF DYING STARS_**

 **BRIDGE**

 **TWENTY-THREE MINUTES BEFORE REQUIEM DESTRUCTION**

"Hey, backseat pilot lady, plot us a course out of here!" Samuels pleaded with the artificial intelligence.

" _Course plotted. Engines at maximum effectiveness. Target dreadnought is taking up escort position. All ships in local either contained or under allied control. Requiring affirmation from acting team leader to proceed._ "

"…Aw, shit. Why…" The aviator Spartan scrunched his face, before running both hands across the top of his helmet. "Punch it! Go!"

The massive Fortress-class – now with a vast portion of its exterior hull occupied by a ship; be it a Forerunner transport, a CRS light cruiser, or a Sojourner dreadnought - shifted ponderously to starboard, angling itself for the shield world's designated exit hole. The single unattached dreadnought followed alongside, with no IFF – either Covenant or UNSC – being squawked from it.

"Come on, move faster! Can't we move fast- AW SHIT!"

The view outside the massive hole changed as the shield world rotated. The crew were now looking directly at Epoloch, far too close to make their escape. There was still 22 minutes supposedly left on the countdown clock, they were so close, and now -

"AEONA! JUMP US NOW! PLEASE!" Samuels shrieked in abject terror. On cue, a massive slipspace portal swirled into existence in front of the Fortress. A vastly smaller rift whirled up in front of the lone dreadnought.

Less than seven seconds later, an explosion rattled the unattached Sojourner.

All at once, the UNSC boarding party onboard could move again, albeit in one general direction – down. The Knight screamed as it, too, tipped over and crashed to the floor. Both Watchers immediately flew to its aid.

A wireframe representation of the dreadnought's hull whirled into view in the center of the chamber, displaying nearly a full third of the ship breaking free of the rest, dropping to crash in the boiling water below. Crooked red lines flashed through more of the now-broken blade. The ship's protective barrier fields pulsed at fifty percent effectiveness, though began to drip energy rapidly.

All Clarke could do was hold onto the closest two Marines and engage every possible magnetic clamp on his armor as the Forerunner vessel groaned beneath them.

Then the vibrations set in as the damaged dreadnought slipped within the rift… and the illumination within went out.

 _ **Author's Note:**_

So, as it turns out, the original story had a fair number of inconsistencies, even before the release or even proposed existence of _Halo: Warfleet_. Chief among them being the Forerunner dreadnought itself is just one 'wing' of the structure seen in Halo Wars 1 instead of the object in full. Among other errors.

I figure some of these ought to be corrected. As will certain other issues that bogged down the story during its original run (coughBLOODYWORMScough).

Another reason why I started the story in the first place is sort of due to ODST – the feeling of exploring this empty population center… well, empty aside from random encounters of hostile patrols, or even kill-teams. As such, I will be moving the date of arrival back about, say, a few days before the Toa Metru make their return to the now-spider-infested city (I suppose the timeline could coincide to the end of BA #6: _Maze of Shadows_ ), to give more of a chance for exploration before stuff goes sideways.

Another reason for the rewrite was to give some degree more characterization, and to pad out the UNSC side of the cast a bit. Not the least of which is the 're-introduction' of the character of Jeremy Martinez.  
Spartan Martinez already pushes the boundary of what is considered infantry weapons tech... now give him access to Matoran Universe tech? Ought to be glad that both the Brotherhood of Makuta and Order of Mata Nui have other, more pressing issues to deal with at this point in time.

Also, I re-read BA #7: _Web of the Visorak_ a while back, and the thought of having some sort of interaction from afar with the Toa Metru was subsequently considered to be a reasonable idea.

As for how the original would have ended, at least the Hordikgolo arc:

slipspace crystal retrieved, main body of dreadnought - or what is now known to be the dedicated docking tower for a dreadnought - is completely flooded

number of Sangheili and Unggoy escape, reach surface, return to the city

Ta-Metru Sentinel Foundry reactivated by Hordika Team Two, district falls under protection

Forerunner shuttle expended to deliver slipspace crystal to heart of Hordika-Lekgolo infestation, CCM Martinez attempts to hijack it before it departs

Half of Po-Metru is telefragged, sea rushes in to swamp everything

A massive portion of the Archives gets flooded, regions in Ga-, Ta-, and Le-Metru stay dry due to Sentinel barricades, Ko-Metru Archives survive as well because collapsed tunnels

Parts of Onu-Metru collapse into the Silver Sea as the liquid protodermis smashes through structural supports

two entire districts are more or less devastated

cue_

This time around, I'll likely be avoiding the worms. _**Nightfall**_ corrupts everything it touches, it would seem.

Oh, and some stuff might remain (mostly) the same. Like the Tahtorak + Krahka + Sentinel murderflock vs Zivon battle royale.


	2. 2: Transition and Arrival

**CHAPTER TWO: ARRIVAL**

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**

 **DAMAGED FORERUNNER DREADNOUGHT DESIGNATE** ** _LOCHAGOS_**

 **UNKNOWN DATE – ASSUMED 20 FEBURARY 2558**

There was no way to know how long they remained in slipspace. All any of the humans – Spartan Clarke included – could recall were flickers of consciousness, each one punctuated by the feeling of being compressed by a relentless force against an unyielding object, and a horrible sensation akin to undergoing violent internal combustion.

When they finally emerged into real-space, the transition permeated every particle of their bodies and minds. It was a relief compared to their previous state, though the immediate effects were no less traumatic.

It took more than an hour for SIV-311 to regain full mobility. The Lieutenant groggily lifted himself off the command chamber's floor – and blinked in total surprise.

The bridge had completely changed. With the exception of the now-inactive translocation pad that had brought them here, and what appeared to be two Forerunner interface pillars not three meters away from where he had been pinned to the floor, the room was bare of any other decorations… aside from the Marines and Troopers still scattered around the chamber.

Clarke blinked rapidly, shaking off the lethargy that still attempted to permeate every point of his being. Casting his gaze around to take in the chamber's complete layout, he noticed the bridge's ceiling now curved upwards like a dome, instead of its previously flat configuration.

The SPARTAN-IV attempted to bring up TEAMBIO to check on the condition of the unaugmented personnel in the room, but the sudden jittering of his HUD as it cycled through every single auxiliary program at a blur – repeatedly – was disconcerting enough to curtail his attempt.

Moving slowly, he stepped over to each and every soldier, checking their vitals directly. At least those displays still worked… though two of them were not beacons of positive news.

"Aeona. Hospitalman T. Bergon and Captain D. Donaldson are… are KIA. Add them to the list of the fallen." There was no other conclusion, given the Captain's state of full rigor and the absolute lack of a detectable pulse. Bergon was worse off, having been apparently slammed at high speed against one of the walls, a conclusion reached by the heavily-damaged condition of his skeleton and pulverized rib cage.

A thought sped through the Spartan's mind, and he immediately triggered TEAMCOM – ignoring the subsequent degradation of his HUD's overall status, or any sense of radio protocol in general.

"Spartan Jeremy Martinez, if you're still out there, respond immediate!"

No answer.

"Aeona, give me a full scan of the dreadnought, immediately!"

Still, no response from anything. SIV-311's HUD was beginning to stabilize, however – right up until it completely crashed, multiple error messages scrolling across the screen, all superimposed against a vision-reducing bright blue background.

Clarke roared in anger, detaching the clamps sealing his helmet in place, before wrenching it off and tossing it against the floor, from which it bounced twice before coming to a stop. He stood there, breathing heavily for a short period, before collapsing to his knees and forcefully running an armored gauntlet against his bald scalp.

It was an unprofessional display of anger, but it was the only action to come to mind at that time. The rest of the unaugmented UNSC personnel remained immobile, still unconscious, unconcerned with the outburst of rage.

It took less than a minute for Clarke to crawl back to his discarded piece of armor, sliding it back on and re-clamping it to the rest. He shut his eyes as the same blinding blue light attempted to sear his eyes out again, waiting for it to go away – or for his anger to subside, whichever came first. Another full minute later, he cracked open one eye, to see a sheer wall of code streaming past.

From what he could tell, the system was in full reboot stage. Whether this was due to his percussive abuse or due to the horrendous slipspace transit that they had been dragged through, he had no idea.

And if the worst-case scenario had come to pass, that it had been reverted back to factory settings…

"Aeona…?"

To remove the helmet would put the rebooting process on hold, if not restart it altogether. And if there was any chance that Aeona survived, the Spartan didn't want to do anything to further complicate or ruin that chance.

And so, to that end, he laid back to the ground, now cut off from the outside world, as the system continued to restore itself to full capacity.

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**

 **DAMAGED FORERUNNER DREADNOUGHT**

 **UNKNOWN DATE – ASSUMED 20 FEBURARY 2558**

SPARTAN-IV-322 levered himself from the floor of the hallway, using Jeb II as a crutch. Once upright, he reattached the coilcannon to his primary mag-holster, allowing his armor's micro-fusion reactor to begin recharging the weapon's own battery.

Next to his feet lay the scattered components of Seth. Uncle Seth had always had a few flaws, always spending time at various gambling stations on Meridian. He had passed away three years before the attack, a victim of a heavily-corroded liver – though one could also argue his frequent claims of bankruptcy paid a considerable part in his death as well.

In any case, the 15mm semi-automatic coil-rifle dubbed for his unlucky uncle didn't last particularly long, either. Something had obviously come loose somewhere in the assembly, and the weapon had damn near blown itself to pieces after misfiring. It could have been considerably worse, as the ammo box itself failed to cook off, but it was still a humbling experience.

Jeremy Martinez was isolated, in some unknown area of the ship his team leader had been determined not to fall into Covenant possession. A mindset Jeremy was completely unopposed to.

He was certain that the rest of Apex shared the same opinion, which had forced them to fire on the dreadnought after their previously set amount of time had elapsed. Better to have it destroyed than for it to burn away some unfortunate human colonies.

He wasn't prepared to have survived. The subsequent turbulence challenged his assumptions of survival, but still failed to end his existence – or even critically injure him.

Martinez began to move along the hallway. Either he'd find his way to his originally intended destination, or he'd run into a Covenant patrol. Or Prometheans. In preparation, he ignited Sarai and drew Trembley from the mag-holster on his right thigh.

VISR was a mess, the lines often wavering like a stream instead of remaining solid and definite. If a camouflaged Sangheili were to ambush him, he would have no premature warning. The loss of his motion tracker was also worrying.

What he wasn't expecting upon peeking past the next corner, however, was a pale-faced human woman staring back at him with deadened eyes, almost nose-to-nose with the Spartan. What came out of the gunsmith's throat was a combination of some obscure vulgarity mixed with a choked sound of alarm, and his knee-jerk response drove Sarai hilt-deep into the lady's face before any other thought could take hold.

The woman's image immediately fluctuated and dissolved, and a voice pinged over TEAMCOM. " _You're rather nervous, eh? Your vitals are spiking considerably._ "

The only answer was heavy breathing from the Spartan. Seeing that figure within grappling range had completely blanked out his mind, purged it of everything except base-level terror and the urgent need to deliver the strongest strike he could muster before his evident death.

Too much. That one mission was too much.

It had broken his team leader. Before the mission, APEX LEAD would have eagerly handed over all the knowledge they had accumulated on the derelict Forerunner fleet to Captain Lasky, though would have still asked to be deployed on the recovery mission.

After the mission? SIV-311 had said it was "too dangerous" to inform _Infinity_ 's captain, that "if ONI finds out about this and gets control of those ships, we'll all suffer in the long term", and assorted statements of a similar nature.

" _Ey, you still in there? I didn't startle you too bad, right?_ "

"Identify."

" _Winona, UNSC Xenoarcheological intelligence. Or, at least, a distinct fraction of myself. I'd have to talk to her – me – I – I mean… myself, to inquire just how much of me is… oh, you're the sniper. You're the strong, silent ty-_ "

"Guide me to the bridge."

" _Hard to do that, Jim. Can I call you Jim? Martinez sounds so formal, and there's already another Mar-_ "

"Navpoint. Then shush."

" _There are no passageways leading to the bridge. There are very few passageways at all, in fact. The ship's internal structure has rearranged itself to maintain structural integrity for as lo-_ "

"How do I get there?"

" _Through the translocation network, of cour-_ "

"Spin it up and place a navpoint. Then quiet."

 _"…_ _Navpoint marked. I'll engage the portal once-"_

"Quiet." And with no further words, SIV-322 began his trek back up the hallway in the direction of the marked point, ignoring his HUD's slowly-stabilizing glitch rate.

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**

 **DAMAGED FORERUNNER DREADNOUGHT DESIGNATE** ** _LOCHAGOS_**

 **UNKNOWN DATE – ASSUMED 20 FEBURARY 2558**

Finally, after what felt like half-an-hour of a cross between meditation and being on the verge of a complete nervous breakdown, SIV-311's HUD finished its reboot cycle. Almost immediately, the Spartan lurched to his feet, running another medical scan on the rest of the UNSC soldiers in the room. All but two – the dead Marines from before – flashed green results. From what he was able to tell, they were about to start waking up. He dragged both corpses to the far side of the room, away from the rest of the Marines and Troopers. They did not need their first sight to be of their fallen comrades.

Glancing around the room again, he noticed the two control columns blinking yellow in his HUD. Why would they…

" _Hellooooooooo?_ "

Clarke jumped, his hand reaching for his sidearm… only to close on nothing. Crap.

" _Both of you are jumpy._ "

"Identify yourself. Are you the Librarian?"

" _Aw, you can't recognize my voice?_ " With a surge of energy, a holographic figure coalesced in the center of the room, next to the interface columns. " _Winona, UNSC Xenoarcheological intelligence._ "

"Win… wait…"

" _Aeona spun a section of herself… or would that be myself... off right before we jumped into slipspace. Figured you might need her… I mean, my help. It's… tough, to be fair. I don't know whether to consider myself an individual or just a-_ "

"Hold up, what? Aeona did… wait, what?"

" _\- so what do you think? Am I Aeona or an individual unto myself?_ "

Clarke was temporarily speechless. "You… it's completely up to you what… wait, hold up, are you flying the ship right now?"

" _A discussion for later, then? Okay._ " Aeona – Winona – pressed her knuckles together before continuing. " _Well, yes… and no. Yes, I have control of most of the working systems. The_ Director of Vengeance _is currently in a holding pattern… hold one._ "

In the space of a second, the scenery around the UNSC strike team changed. One moment the group of humans were surrounded by the mysteriously-illuminated dome of Forerunner material, and in the next… darkness, broken only by the glow of distant stars.

SIV-311's vitals immediately spiked as his head jerked around. "Wh-"

" _It's just an alternative view, Spartan Clarke. A way for the Forerunners to experience the scenery outside their ship without ever leaving the protection given by its hull. If only we hadn't lost the secondary sensor array approximately nine-hundred and sixty-three seconds ago, you would have seen a lot more._ " The artificial intelligence's avatar stepped to stand next to APEX LEAD's right side, before sweeping her arm up and across the sky. Lines began to crisscross the view. " _Believe it or not, this vessel has transitioned directly into the interior of another shield world. For now, we have received no communication from any local Forerunner intelligence, no instructions for docking or requests to explain our presence here._ "

The UNSC AI's comment on Forerunner intelligences stoked a thought in Clarke's brain, which quickly was vocalized. "What about the Knight? The one that prevented us from leaving?"

" _About that Knight. Lochagos saved you, albeit likely inadvertently. Translocation from_ Director of Vengeance _to any other ship would have been unsurvivable. A critical component of intraship translocation had been damaged in a firefight between Covenant and Promethean forces._ Red Light _could send you here, but returning to the Fortress would have likely resulted in insufficient reassembly on the other end. Without any actual data, I can only run simulations as to how-_ "

"Aeona, the Knight?"

" _Lochagos is currently contained in a suppression field directly beneath the command deck. Whatever the Covenant did to sabotage this ship, it severed his connection to it. And the Librarian's command codes seem to outweigh its own, though I do not know how long they might last. Lochagos is very determined to have its ship back. Though I do not believe it will be in any way elated to find what has become of it."_

"…Aeona?"

A holographic model of a Sojourner coalesced in front of the Spartan and the intelligence. " _This is_ Director of Vengeance _when you and Spartan Jeremy Martinez first arrived on it. And this is the Covenant sabotage."_

A massive section of the ship immediately flared red, hull buckling in all directions around the disrupted section. Pieces flew across the room and out of sight, culminating in nearly a full third of the dreadnought's blade-like hull dropping off. Additional secondary explosions wracked the _Director_ , racing up the blade until a sizeable number of decimeters – equivalent to a full kilometer and a half – past the midpoint of the hull. Structural failures ran through the remainder of the blade, some lines of which reached into the 'hilt' as well. A purple haze surrounded the model.

"Director of Vengeance _initiates unmediated transition to slipstream space. Lochagos attempts to tune structural integrity, constraint, and torsion fields to maximum, in effort to save critical components. Remainder of blade keel is lost._ "

The remaining section of the blade peeled away rapidly as the ship began to tumble through the eleven-dimensional domain of alternate spacetime known as slipspace. Other components were violently removed from the hull, including large chunks of the prong structure protruding from the main section of the hull. " _Auspex sensors lost._ Director of Vengeance _can no longer obtain information about locations outside of slipspace. Next transition will be effectively blind. Lochagos attempts to upload intelligence core to location designate Composer's Abyss. Upload fails. I take the opportunity from Lochagos' temporary abandonment of the ship's systems to assume command with the codes the Librarian used to direct the other vessels back on Requiem. Lochagos attempts to retake command, but is unable to. I lock all UNSC personnel in suspended animation fields, out of harm from Lochagos or other Promethean constructs. Estimated two solar standard days elapse before Lochagos was rendered temporarily inert._ "

As Winona spoke, more sections were torn from the ship's hull. The prong was violently reduced to a nine-hundred-meter stub. Forerunner protective barrier fields decreased in effectiveness, even as they receded further and further in towards the core modules.

"Engine modules came under threat of loss. _Director of Vengeance_ forced to transition to standard spacetime or risk eventual complete hull failure." The haze peeled away from the model, fully revealing the sorry state of the once marvelous Sojourner. Even in realspace, the ship continued to shed parts, though at a vastly reduced rate than in slipspace. " _Ship loses most forward momentum upon transition, as a safety measure in case of potential collision. Safety measure was necessary, collision with unknown material closely avoided. Remaining auspex array mostly non-functional, but immediate surroundings revealed._ "

The model immediately shrunk, rapidly decreasing in scale until it was merely the size of Clarke's little finger. A massive hemispherical cavern rose around it, with thirty-two miniscule cylindrical or oval lines radiating out from it at various heights, indicating some form of tunnel system extending from the dome in which the dreadnought was softly gliding inside. Varying-sized cliffs rose up around the rim of the cavern, one particular area near a tunnel gently pulsing yellow, indicating the presence of something that obviously had piqued the UNSC intelligence's interest. Far below, some unknown liquid substance formed a vast sea, interrupted only by a landmass in the direct center of the dome, and the cliffs surrounding the edges. Seven of the tunnels were located at sea level, potentially allowing avenues of water-based transit. The sheer scale of it made the Spartan's head begin to throb, and he waved his right hand between his helmet and the display, as if to ward off the oncoming migraine.

"So what do we do now? I'm going to assume we can't slip back to UNSC-controlled space-"

" _You would assume correctly. The_ Director of Vengeance _is no longer fit for any sort of slipspace transit. Even attempting to re-energize the interstellar slipspace core could result in the ship's destruction._ "

"…Okay, then we won't do that. What about-"

The Sojourner's model promptly took center focus once more as three more segments of the hull gave way, to tumble into the sea far below. " _Reporting loss of port-side converging beam cannon battery. Ship structural integrity still failing. Automated_ _repair protocols are not in operation right now, nor are they likely to be any time soon. As such, the ship is likely to fall apart within the next four hours._ "

The translocation pad behind the pair suddenly thrummed with energy. Clarke turned around, reaching for his right hip… only for his hand to close on empty air. Even as he checked all over his armor for weapons, finding none, the transporter cycled. A large circle shot up from the top of the pad before descending just as quickly, the only difference between before and after being the familiar armored figure now standing on the platform.

"Martinez! You're alright!" Another possible breach of decorum, but at least the gnawing anxiety that the other Spartan had been in one of the lost sections could now be safely discarded.

"Clarke. Status green." The armored figure nodded in the direction of the intelligence, while stepping off the pad and towards the duo. "She who she says she is?"

" _I am UNSC AI Aeona, identification number AEN-411-8190-4902, former shipboard AI of Strident frigate UNSC_ Wrath of Stanforth, _FFG-550, assigned to UNSC_ Infinity _as Sub-vessel Five, destroyed in combat action with Covenant remnant armored cruisers on 15 February 2558, recovered by Fireteam Apex on 17 February 2558, and upgraded with UNSC xenoarcheological programs on 18 February 2558 by Infinity Science at the request of Doctor Norman Hosanna. Is that enough proof for you, Jeremy Martinez, SPARTAN-IV-322, fourth member of Fireteam Apex, 124998-4397-"_

"Aeona," Clarke interrupted the intelligence's reciting of his teammate's service number, before motioning towards the holographic image of _Director of Vengeance_. "If we can't make it back to the UEG, and this ship's structural life expectancy can be measured in hours, what are we supposed to do? Can we touch down on that island down there?"

" _That option has been considered and selected as the optimal course of action._ " Aeona pressed her knucles together again, before she pivoted towards the projection of the Sojourner, waving a hand over the paltry remainder of the dreadnought's superstructure. The vessel immediately minimized once more, with the center of the room now being taken up by a holographic image of the landmass in question.

" _Right now, we are in a camouflaged extended holding pattern above a partially industrialized island. Scans acquired from the secondary short-range auspex array, with what limited functionality it has, shows signs of the island-city having incurred significant damage due to an immense cataclysm, likely of the seismic variety. Further sweeps revealed a significant infestation of some form of local fauna. It is unlikely that these creatures are the original constructors and inhabitants of the city… and it is possible that they are not native to the island at all, given their hunting habits._ "

Clarke cleared his throat. "Mind showing us what they look like, so we know what to shoot?"

" _Of course_ ," spoke the UNSC AI as she extended her left arm to the side. Another holographic form coalesced. Clarke immediately took a step back, reaching for his still non-existent sidearm. Beside him, Martinez activated Sarai, the crimson energy machete extending merely a quarter of its normal combat length.

"That is a big bug." A grunt from APEX FOUR signaled his teammate agreement with his assessment, the duo staring at the approximately four-foot tall, eight-feet long, armored quadruped slowly swiveling around on the spot. "And it has quite a lot of… is that a damn buzzsaw in its mouth?"

" _While I was unable to gather more than thirty-five solar standard minutes of observation of the fauna on this new world before that particular subfunction of the auspex array ceased operation, I can conclude that this species are indeed deserving of the classification of hyper-carnivores. In that same span of time, four other species of fauna below ceased all biometric readings, with the exception of two specimens of some form of rodent. Both specimens displayed significant changes to their genetic structure before they too expired. One of them suffered a toxic autoimmune response, while the other died due to plummeting from a considerable height._ "

The holographic image of the bug froze, before zooming in close to the top of its abdomen. " _Another interesting facet picked up by the auspex was some form of built-in energy weapon. I have observed ten different effects of the energy bolts launched from these weapons, and only six of them are immediately survivable. Treat these with the same level of danger as the antimatter munitions from a Z-390 high-explosive – apologies, the Forerunner weapon designated by UNSC service personnel as an Incineration Cannon._ "

The view of the bug expanded again, now highlighting its entire carapace. APEX FOUR deactivated Sarai, placing the now-safe hilt back onto the mag-holster on his left thigh. " _From simulations, I have determined that both standard-issue UNSC 7.62x51mm and 9.5x40mm will fail to penetrate the armored carapace of this particular predator species. Anything lower than 12.7x40mm will also fail to penetrate. I must also state that while their undersides might be partially softer than the carapace stretching over the top, front, and side profile of their bodies, it is a firing position to be avoided unless you manage to upend the specimen from a safe distance. Remain aware that 7.62x51mm will still not fully penetrate their underside. Their eyes and leg joints, however, are not protected to the same degree."_

"Our MA5s and M739s may as well be shooting snowballs. That alone accounts for over half of our current arsenal – hey, wait. Aeona, where did our weapons go?"

" _Your weapons are currently stacked up on board Pelican Golf-33. It was the only way I could guarantee Lochagos would not terminate you until the opportunity to assume control of the ship's systems presented itself. Spartan Jeremy Martinez was not on the bridge, and thus did not pose any conceivable threat._ " Aeona sighed. " _And we are on a Forerunner dreadnought. Even in its current state, it remains more than capable of producing and distributing infantry-scale weapons to make up for our overall lack of meaningful firepower. Or constructing Sentinels to take and hold land._ "

More chunks of material separated from the holo-image of the dreadnought, which itself immediately took center stage once more. The red lines throughout its hull began to pulse more vigorously. " _Oh. That is not acceptable. Core areas are now being threatened with premature separation._ " The image of the bug blipped out of existence, and the dreadnought was moved aside – though not minimized as before - to show the island-city again. " _I have designated and marked our landing site, as well as six other base locations within the city. I am accounting for pre-existing damage to the industrialized sectors below, as well as the network of caverns beneath the surface of the island, as factors for base locations. With your approval, Spartan Mattias Clarke, SIV-311, I will lock in our approach vector and initiate plotted modular dispersal plans._ "

Various sections of the dreadnought's remaining sections glowed an assortment of shades of green, though the structural failure lines were uncomfortably close to penetrating into those zones as well.

"AEN-411-8190-4902, as the acting highest-ranking UNSC officer in the local vicinity, I ask that you initiate approach vector to foreign landmass and prepare to enact… whatever procedure you have planned for us to land safe and secure," Clarke stated, attempting to keep his voice steady, even with his eyes continuously darting towards the still-extending spiderweb of fractures, especially the pair of pulsing blood-red fingers that seemed to be deliberately reaching for the engineering block.

"Course locked in. Raising protective constraint fields over all onboard biologicals and related equipment. Beginning approach."

The ship's holo-image promptly reduced in scale, as did that of the island. Both displays melded together, with the remaining hull of _Director of Vengeance_ rapidly approaching the airspace above the curved tip of one of the island's peninsulas. " _Once module separation commences, we will no longer be cloaked. Our arrival will not be subtle. The Marines and Troopers will likely awaken shortly after touchdown. Be ready._ "

Neither of the Spartans could respond, even if they had wanted to. The ship began to noticeably vibrate as the cracks spread around the green-shaded modules, even piercing in between them at places. " _Slipspace core plotting transition in thirty seconds, as per asset denial articles. Securing Lochagos intelligence core. Modular dispersion imminent. Prepare for separation._ "

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**

 **FORTY-TWO KILOMETERS ABOVE SURFACE OF UNIDENTIFIED LANDMASS**

One moment, the sky was empty, broken only by the faint glimmer of artificial starlets in the monumental cavern's roof. In the next, a minute section of the starlets above was obscured by the passage of the Sojourner's remaining bulk as it hurtled towards its final destination. Without any further warning, three significantly-sized sections of the ship tore free of the hull. One descended straight down, blue light coursing from beneath it. If one had the necessary observation equipment, one would notice it slowing down incrementally, turning what would have been a merciless hammer-blow into a comparatively comfortable landing. Only two buildings immediately neighboring the landing zone underwent complete collapse when the chunk of Forerunner adamantine hit the ground. The shockwaves radiating from the point of collision resulted in an appreciable maximum of six additional structure losses within an approximate radius of eight hundred meters, and the cave-in of two tunnels beneath the landing point.

The second and third modules ejected from the main body of the dreadnought in a more diagonal direction. The same blue-fire jets of energy kept them traveling along the same vectors, while still rapidly descending towards yet another empty space down below. Unlike the previous module's touchdown, however, the second and third components' landings were immediately followed by several large gouts of flame and geysers of unknown molten material. The impact had evidently ruptured nearly three square kilometers of underground piping in their designated touchdown zones. Flames from the destroyed pipes began to lick at the webs covering nearby buildings, and within a sparse two minutes, the repurposed structures were well ensconced within a small firestorm.

One second before the vestigial remains of the Sojourner was about to clear the massive tower in the center of the city, it shattered into a quintet of components. The largest section continued to hurtle forward, with no apparent intention of descending in altitude. Two of them shifted to starboard, aiming for landing zones to the 'northeast'. The final two angled to port, eventually to land within six-point-three kilometers of each other.

The first northeast module seemingly missed its landing zone, plowing into the ocean and immediately becoming obscured from view by a massive cloud of steam. The second module in that group found more success, almost gliding in to its touchdown point less than a hundred meters away from a heavily-damaged circular structure at the base of a curling peninsula leading to the north-most point of the island-city.

As the sorry remnant of a once fearsome ship-of-the-line passed over the island-city below, it scattered a trail of adamantine hull plates and other detritus in its wake. Covenant weapons, vehicles, and soldiers – some of which were still alive - spilled out, plummeting to the surface of the landmass. Five Phantoms and twenty-nine Banshees tumbled from the discarded remains of what might have once been the Forerunner equivalent to a hangar deck. Half of their number even managed to engage their engines before they collided with the ground. Additional pieces of Forerunner material flew from the ragged hull in arcs, descending to the island-city below on trajectories far exceeding that of those being scattered in the Sojourner's wake.

The pitiful stump of adamantine that was _Director of Vengeance_ 's main engineering section continue to travel the length of the city, directly down the middle, before blazing back out to sea. Once it had reached a predetermined safe distance from the landmass – nearly three-quarters of the way to the barrier ahead - the former dreadnought's FTL drive reengaged. A purplish-maroon rift spun into existence as the scarred device crudely punched a hole into the alternate subdomain. The rupture reached out for the remnant, dragging the final vestige of the once fearsome warship back into eleven-dimensional space, and then winked out as local spacetime stabilized itself once more.


	3. 3: Touchdown

**CHAPTER THREE: TOUCHDOWN**

UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS  
FORMER BRIDGE OF SOJOURNER DREADNOUGHT

 ** _DIRECTOR OF VENGEANCE_**

The impact with the ground could be felt through the constraint fields supposedly protecting the UNSC strike force onboard. Spartan Matt Clarke mentally winced. If he felt like he had just been rammed by a Warthog, the Marines and Troopers would have it nearly twice as bad.

Aeona's holographic display winked out, as did every single light source on the bridge. Seconds later, the constraint field dissipated and the two Spartans collapsed to the floor. Spartan Jeremy Martinez was the first one up, the darkness around him peeling back against the glare of his helmet-mounted tactical light and the glow of his crimson plasma machete at full blaze. Clarke was next, quickly moving to the nearest Marine and checking his vitals.

As he knelt next to the Marine and raised his arm to acquire a pulse – or, worst-case scenario, the lack of one – the unaugmented soldier reacted by seizing the armored limb with his left hand and stabbing at the Spartan's faceplate with the standard-issue UNSC combat knife in his right. The blade collided with the Spartan's shields, barely draining their capacity by a whopping eight percent. SPARTAN-IV-311 subsequently pushed the offending limb to the side and wrapped it under his own left arm.

"Woah! Friendly! Lieutenant Matt Clarke, SPARTAN-Four-Three-One-One, Fireteam Apex! You're among friends, Lieutenant!"

The Marine in question grumbled a reply. "I don't particularly feel like it. What happ- the Knight!" The Marine bent upwards, launching himself into a sitting position, though still constrained by the hold on his right arm. "Where's Zebra Squad?"

"Easy! Easy, Lieutenant! The Knight's no longer a threat, it's contained." Inwardly, however, Clarke wasn't so sure. The entire ship seemed to have suffered a power outage when they touched down, and if whatever Aeona had used to keep Lochagos at bay was now offline… "You feel good to walk?"

The Marine's expression told the Spartan everything he needed to know. He released the unaugmented soldier's arm, then helped him to stand up. The three soldiers quickly moved around the room, checking on the other assorted Marines and Troopers. Clarke himself immediately beelined to the two previously-deceased personnel before keying TEAMCOM. "Hospitalman Bergon is dead." He paused for a second, before continuing. "Captain Donaldson has also died. You're in charge of Zebra Squad now, Lieutenant Sherman."

There was silence on the other end, broken only by a new voice chiming in. "Damn, Iceberg's dead? He owed me a case of malt… guess that's never going to be paid."

"Shut it, Snyder," the newly-minted CO of Zebra Squad snarled. "Count yourself lucky we survived at all… and that combat-fit personnel are at a premium right now."

"Can everybody please quiet down?" A softer voice nearly whispered over the channel. "My head's still pounding, and I'm having trouble seeing straight."

"That's because the lights are off, sug'," Snyder spoke, the grin almost audible. "Take your time, it's not like I can't feel my hand or nothing."

"Sure, Snyder, I'll... over. I'll try to reattach your hand in the proper order after I cut it off… a few times." There was no response from the Trooper in question.

"Hey, Martinez, do you have any flares on you?" Clarke abruptly inquired. "Would be nice to have more light."

The reply was quick and succinct. "Nothing that's not extremely hazardous to our health."

"Scratch that idea, then," Clarke shivered. Before _that_ mission, the only thing that had truly scared him was spiders. His trifecta of fears consisted of that, being sucked out into space through a narrow crevice… and Jeremy Martinez' ideas for weaponry. Now, of course, it had changed since… that mission, but Jeremy Martinez still ranked third on the list.

The next six minutes consisted of checking vitals and getting Marines and Troopers to their feet. Surprisingly enough, the only major injury sustained by Zebra Squad – outside of the loss of Bergon and Donaldson – was a few shattered bones in Specialist Jason Snyder's right hand. Hospitalman Aubrey Devonshire tended to it as Lieutenant Jonathan Sherman conversed with the two Spartans.

"So, what happens now?"

"Well… we either wait until power is restored, or we start looking for a way out. I choose the latter. Lieutenant, organize Zebra Squad and take stock of our rations."

Lt. Sherman nodded affirmation before spinning on his heel and striding off towards the rest of his squad. Clarke turned towards his own fellow fireteam member. "We start at this point, make our way around the room, meet on the other side. If we see anything, we mark it and come back to it after finishing our sweep." With that said, Clarke pivoted on the spot and began to examine the wall in question as he walked forward. For the most part, it was featureless, with an utter lack of designs so often typical of Forerunner architecture. It was only when he made it halfway around the room – now stepping over the corpses of Zebra Squad's former CO and the other medic in the group – that Fireteam Apex's resident gunsmith spoke up over a private comm channel. "The teleporter's gone."

"Eh? Say again?"

"Teleporter's gone."

"Martinez, how thick would you say these walls are? With the power off, automated defense protocols wouldn't kick in, and repairs shouldn't happen either…"

"Could be anything from a few inches to 'thick enough to zero every power source we have'."

"We'll leave that as an option. Finish the sweep first."

"Copy, LEAD."

Less than seven seconds passed before Jeremy keyed the channel again. "Got a door here. It's small. Would have to crawl through."

"Might be for Sentinels. Any way to open it, provided we got the power from somewhere?" Clarke said as he continued his half of the sweep.

"Already half open. Not that thick. Can fit my hand across it."

"Fine, open it up. Don't go through though, wait for me to get there." Clarke finished his part of the sweep before moving over to Martinez' location. When the fireteam leader arrived, he whistled. "That's a small hole."

"Larger on the other side. Checked with VISR. Short hallway."  
Clarke knelt in front of the hole, taking his own observations before replying. "I'll go through first."  
"Copy." Martinez stood aside, allowing Clarke to crawl through the hole, at one point pushing his team leader through as his armor became caught on the frame.

"I'm through. You're right, it's a short hallway." A few steps forward carried him to the end. "Hold up, got another door here." Unlike the expected design of Forerunner doors, this one was more akin to that of UNSC construction, albeit made of Forerunner material. Clarke slid his hand along the middle bar, coming to rest on a handle set to the left of the direct center. The Spartan then pulled it out of its protective recess, braced himself on the ground – locking himself into place with mag-boots – and hauled back on the lever. The door hissed, sliding open halfway… and dim light spilled into the hallway.

There was no rush of air, no equalizing of pressure. Clarke unlocked his magnetized boots from the floor, reached for his sidearm… then growled when his hand yet again closed on nothing but air. "Martinez. Move up."

The echo of armored boots hitting the Forerunner floor indicated the approach of his teammate, and soon SIV-311 could see the thick barrel assembly of Jeb II in his peripheral vision. Martinez knocked his elbow against Clarke's own, signaling his positioning, before handing his sidearm to the fireteam leader. Both of their motion trackers showed no signatures. Both Spartans keyed their active camouflage systems before stepping out onto the alien world.

Clarke rapidly took in his surroundings, with both his and Jeremy's VISR cataloging every potential ambush point or potentially interesting facet of the terrain around them. Which… wasn't much. Atmospheric readings scrolled down the side of his HUD – the air was functionally breathable without sealed suits, which was good for the Marines.

"This is a bad spot," his teammate rumbled. Clarke had to signal his agreement to the statement. Massive cliffs rose on both sides of their landing zone, and a glance at the terrain on the other side of their impromptu base confirmed the geological issues with their position.

They were in a canyon.

 **METRU NUI – COLISEUM  
ROYAL CHAMBER**

Sidorak clenched his fist around the chunk of material that the Keelerak had brought him. One of many shards that had been scattered in that mysterious airship's wake as it had passed over his city, this particular one had come off of a considerably larger portion that had crushed a Kahgarak beneath it. The loss of even a Kahgarak was nothing that troubled the Horde as a whole, as the spider would be replaced within the next four cycles.

The sources of his aggravation came from the districts below. The one known by the former occupants of the city as Ta-Metru was the most problematic for the King of the Horde. Nearly three kio of the district had been consumed by the firestorm whipped up by the invasion towers – what else could they be – that had been dropped from the airship before it had disappeared. And his patrols in Le-Metru had encountered hostile contact around the southern invasion tower. Of course, his patrols had rapidly accumulated in force and overwhelmed the mechanical invaders, but not without sustaining considerable loss. No matter, four cycles is all that it would take to replenish their numbers.

The shard of unknown material in his grip refused to deform. Another annoyance to deal with. The Rahaga's hit and run attacks on his Horde was irritating, but nothing that could continue for long before one of them were to fail – and if the Horde were to capture one, the rest would undoubtedly stage a rescue. Then he could deal with them all, in one swoop. Such was the folly of so-called heroes.

Sidorak activated his herding sword, holding it above his head before bringing it to bear in the direction of the invasion towers to the northwest. One had already been seen slipping beneath the waves of the Silver Sea. His Visorak were already hard at work reconstructing the bridge to the Matoran's Temple, after it had been destroyed by the waves kicked up by the tower's plunge into the sea. If only it had landed on the old Temple. He would have gladly taken the challenge of potentially dealing with more mechanical Kofo-Rama if it had resulted in the destruction of the landmark.

A brief aura of crimson energy emanated from his blade as he signaled for a patrol of Venom Fliers to scout the area around the two landing points. A stronger glow signified a combined force of Visorak to head for Po-Metru and overwhelm any foreign Kofo-Rama that they encountered.  
Swinging his herding tool to the northeast, he repeated the command, before tossing the shard of material into the air and unleashing a punishing blast of energy from his blade. The laser punched into the unknown metal, sending it flying away and out of sight.

The Matoran were his. The City was his. And no Rahaga, Rahi, Vahki, or challenger could change that. All would, in time, be added to his legend of conquest.

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS  
CANYON SURROUNDING FORMER BRIDGE OF ****_DIRECTOR OF VENGEANCE_**

The two Spartans walked back to the airlock after a cursory examination of the right side of their base. The structure had buried itself into the cliff upon impact, which had been exceedingly lucky not to have caused a rockslide and subsequently bury the former bridge beneath a few thousand tons of alien stone.

As Clarke and Martinez passed the aperture, a soft blue glow from inside drew their attention. Clarke held his teammate's heftier-than-normal M6C at the ready as he peered inside, taking note of the position from where the glow was emanating. A section of the entrance hall's wall had slid aside, revealing some sort of armor within. SIV-311 signaled for APEX FOUR to take a glance at it.

"Probably dangerous."

APEX LEAD blinked agreement over the pair's TEAMCOM – and was surprised when the machine blinked back. An objective marker abruptly appeared above the armor, and a message scrolled across the top of the two Spartans' HUDs.

'OBJECTIVE: HI AEONA_WINONA HERE PUT ON THE INTERFACE GAUNTLET'

Clarke blinked again, before verbally responding; "How do we know-"

'OBJECTIVE: AEN-411-8190-4902 MAT PUT THE GAUNTLET ON WE NEED TO RESTORE POWER NOW'

SIV-311 tensed. 'Mat.' Either the Knight was a cheeky bugger, there had been some other intelligence onboard the ship, or…

'OBJECTIVE: THE LONGER WE ARE WITHOUT POWER THE HIGHER THE CHANCE OF FUBAR'

Clarke sighed, before handing Martinez' customized M6C back to him. APEX LEAD stepped inside the hall, decloaking as he stepped inside. "Anything goes wrong, don't hesitate to shoot. Preferably in the arm or something."  
A single green flash on TEAMCOM was the only acknowledgement he received from Fireteam Apex's sharpshooter. "Right," he sighed, now standing in front of the armor piece, which he could now see to be something for a forearm. "Better not be a trick." He sucked in a breath, before reaching forward and picking it up.

'OBJECTIVE: EQUIP INTERFACE GAUNTLET ON LEFT (NON-DOMINANT) ARM'

Clarke gritted his teeth, turning to face SIV-322; his VISR system picking up the outline of Martinez, Jeb II ready and waiting to spit fury downrange. In that moment, Clarke knew how the Covenant must have felt whenever his team was on the field.  
He slipped the Forerunner gauntlet into place, and his HUD blanked out.

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS  
LANDING ZONE BRAVO/TWO**

-PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED, SETUP COMMENCING  
-ONBOARD BIOLOGICALS STILL IN PROTECTIVE STASIS  
-WAITING ON REQUIRED COMMAND CODES TO RELEASE STASIS LOCK  
-DEPLOYING BASIC COUNTERMEASURE ASSETS TO ESTABLISH PRIMARY PERIMETER  
-CONSTRUCTOR SENTINELS ASSIGNED TO SET UP POWER NODES  
-INTERNAL RESTRUCTURING COMMENCING, CONTROL NODE CONSTRUCTION IN PROGRESS

 **ALRT:** LOCAL ARACHNID SUPERPREDATOR FAUNA DESIGNATED HOSTILE  
 **ALRT:** CANNOT CONTACT COMMAND MODULE  
 **ALRT:** CANNOT CONTACT MODULES FOUR, FIVE, AND SEVEN  
 **ALRT:** MODULE SIX IN FIRE, CANNOT INITIATE EXTERNAL SETUP PROTOCOLS

-REDIRECTING BASIC COUNTERMEASURE LANCE FOR AERIAL SURVEILLANCE

 **ALRT:** CONTROL NODE CONSTRUCTION FINISHED, ATTEMPTING ALIGNMENT  
 **ALRT:** ALIGNMENT FAILURE  
 **ALRT:** TRANSMISSION RECEIVED FROM MODULE SEVEN ASSET, HOSTILE LOCAL ARACHNID SUPERPREDATOR FAUNA NEUTRALIZED DEFENSIVE CORDON OF BASIC COUNTERMEASURE ASSETS

 **PRIORALRT:** ARACHNID SUPERPREDATOR FAUNA ATTACKS IN MASS CAN ALSO IDENTIFY AND SELECT PRIORITY TARGETS  
 **PRIORALRT:** ARACHNID SUPERPREDATOR NOW CLASSIFIED AS APEX SUPERPREDATOR  
 **PRIORALRT:** LARGE FORCE OF ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR SPECIES SPOTTED APPROACHING IN DIRECTION OF LANDING ZONE BRAVO/TWO, APPROX. THREE POINT SIX HOURS OUT.

 **ALRT:** ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR FORCE HAS APPARENT AIR SUPPORT, BASIC DEFENSIVE STRUCTURES REQUIRED  
 **ALRT:** INSUFFICIENT POWER

-PRIORITY: CONSTRUCTION SHIFTED TO POWER NODES  
-INTERNAL LOCKDOWN COMMENCING

 **PRIORALRT TO MODULE THREE** : EQUIVALENT ATTACK LIKELY. PRECAUTIONS ARE NECESSARY.  
 **PRIORALRT TO MODULE SIX** : EQUIVALENT ATTACK LIKELY. PRECAUTIONS ARE NECESSARY. TEMPORARY PROTECTION DUE TO FIRESTORM.  
 **PRIORALRT TO ALL MODULES TO BE REPEATED** : EQUIVALENT ATTACK LIKELY. PRECAUTIONS ARE NECESSARY.  
 **PRIORALRT TO COMMAND MODULE** : ESTIMATE REDUCED ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR NUMBERS TO REACH COMMAND MODULE. PRECAUTIONS ARE NECESSARY.

 **RPT PRIORALRTS UNTIL RECEIVED**


	4. 4: Beachhead, Phase 1

**CHAPTER FOUR: BEACHHEAD, PART ONE**

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS  
ACCESS HALL TO FORMER BRIDGE OF ****_DIRECTOR OF VENGEANCE_**

SPARTAN-IV-311's HUD abruptly refocused. A series of Forerunner glyphs flashed across the screen, followed by the addition of eight new status icons to the left of the display. A heartbeat later, seven of their number had been whisked away, and the remaining icon was shoved down to the bottom right of his motion tracker. An objective marker flashed into existence, leading past the highlighted silhouette of Apex Four and outside of the structure proper.

" _Aah, it's good to be able to talk again,_ " Aeona's voice – if somewhat higher-pitched – wafted through the fireteam-specific comm channel. " _124998-43976-3182, SPARTAN-Four-Three-Two-Two, I understand the need for precautions, but shooting your fireteam's commander will not help our chances to survive here. We must move quickly, for the quicker we can bring the command module online, we can connect with the other modules set up throughout this city, and find out what we are up against in detail._ "  
For a brief set of heartbeats, SIV-322 gave nothing but silence in return, finally breaking the silence with, "Clarke, you green?"

"Not with that shoulder-killing anti-materiel monstrosity aimed in my direction, sergeant," the team leader responded. "Mind pointing it somewhere else?"

"Good enough," Spartan Martinez grunted, before shifting the rifle into a tactical carry stance. "Now what?"

" _Now,_ " Aeona interrupted, " _we have to set up energy generation stations and reactivate this structure. I sowed the region with design seeds on our way down, but none of them seem to have taken root in this chasm. I've used whatever little energy remains in the command module's power reserves to fabricate another._ "  
Another objective marker appeared on Clarke's HUD, a pulsing arrow on its left side urging the UNSC soldier to turn his head in the corresponding direction. The faint aura in the compartment from which he had retrieved the Forerunner gauntlet had gone out, but SIV-311 could still pick up the outline of an eight-inch crystalline object within with the assistance of his VISR. He reached into the compartment and withdrew the technological seed.

" _Be careful, you wouldn't want to activate it in here. Especially while you're holding it,_ " Aeona cautioned, as the recently-added icon on his HUD flickered and changed its appearance. " _Now onto sowing it. Proceed to the marked location._ "

Clarke drew the seed close to his armor, stepping past Martinez and out into the canyon once more. He rapidly closed with the location marked on his display, his teammate following close behind. "What now," the Spartan inquired upon reaching the designated deployment area, "Do I just stick it into the ground?"

" _Bringing up instructions on your HUD now._ " A diagram of the Forerunner design seed appeared on the left side of his visor, with half of it blinking yellow. A silhouette of a human hand twisted the blinking section forward, before the diagram zoomed out, now displaying the outline of a person driving the seed into the ground and sprinting a subsequently marked distance of sixty feet away. The animation repeated twice more before disappearing. By the third time around, Clarke followed the animation almost in sync. Immediately upon twisting the seed, however, SIV-311's HUD flared red and a countdown appeared, ticking down from twenty-five seconds. Apex Lead stabbed the crystal into the ground, and winced as the device barely sunk a quarter of its length in. Twenty-two seconds left.

Clarke planted both his hands on the top of the crystal and pushed down with all of his weight. The design seed subsequently plunged deeper into the ground, quickly approaching the previously-shown three-quarter mark. At the eleven second mark, he pivoted away and began to run.  
SIV-322 was already outside of the designated danger zone, and within a sparse few seconds, so was SIV-311. The second he left the perimeter, his HUD flashed back to its original blue color, though the countdown continued to pulse crimson. Five… four… three… two… one…

The still-above-ground portion of the crystal exploded with brilliant white light. Lines of energy sliced through the ground across the inner twenty feet of the marked zone, the rock and soil in the area soon collapsing into a glowing pit. More and more material collapsed into the hole. Radiation levels began to spike, with both Spartans stepping further back from the zone in response to another twenty feet of the zone collapsing into the growing mass of energy.

"Martinez, run inside and inform the Marines as to what's going on. If I give a warning signal, make sure everybody that can get out on their own gets out and sprints in the opposite direction."  
A green flash on TEAMCOM was the only response, other than the sound of SIV-322's footsteps in the direction of the command module's access passage.  
"Aeona, what's going on?"

" _Everything in the construction zone is being torn apart at the subatomic level and reconstituted into Forerunner material – adamantine, to be exact,_ " the UNSC synthetic intelligence replied, her tone of voice carrying more than a hint of excitement. " _At this moment, the design seed is constructing a reinforced vacuum energy spire, as well as connecting the spire to the command module. Estimated time of completion is eighteen minutes._ "  
"No risk of danger?"  
" _As long as you don't dive into the construction zone, none._ "  
"Compile that information into a data package and send it to Lieutenant Sherman. I'm sure the others will be relieved to know."

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND CITY LANDMASS  
UNKNOWN LOCATION – POSITIONING SYSTEM DAMAGED**  
BASIC COUNTERMEASURE COMMAND UNIT 7399 SITUATION REPORT

 **PRIORALRT:** UNIT CAPTURED BY LOCAL FAUNA  
 **PRIORALRT:** UNIT ENCASED IN BIOLOGICAL MATTER  
 **PRIORALRT:** WEAPON SYSTEM DISABLED  
 **PRIORALRT:** GRAVITY-NULLIFICATION MANEUVERING SYSTEM AT 9% EFFECTIVENESS  
 **PRIORALRT:** PORTSIDE MANIPULATOR DISABLED

-BIOLOGICAL MATTER MATCHES SCAN OF WEBBING PRODUCED FROM LOCAL SUPERPREDATOR FAUNA  
-WEBBING CONTAINS MULTIPLE ENZYMES; 5% ACIDIC, 37% SEDATORY, 58% UNKNOWN  
-73% OF UNKNOWN ENZYMES ARE MUTAGENIC IN NATURE  
-PROTECTIVE ENERGY FIELD STILL ACTIVE  
-ENERGY FIELD WILL PROTECT AGAINST ENZYMES

-DETECTING MULTIPLE ACTIVE BIOMECHANICAL SIGNATURES AROUND ENVELOPING COCOON  
-ATTEMPTING TO ACQUIRE VISUAL CONTACT  
-STARBOARD MANIPULATOR MODERATELY EFFECTIVE AT CUTTING WEBBING OF LOCAL SUPERPREDATOR FAUNA  
-VISUAL CONTACT ACQUIRED  
-MULTIPLE SPECIES OF LOCAL FAUNA ENCASED IN COCCONS  
-39% HAVE CEASED ALL SIGNS OF LIFE  
-43% HAVE BEEN RECENTLY CAPTURED  
-18% ARE IN PROCESS OF ADVANCED BIOLOGICAL AND MECHANICAL DETERIORATION/MUTATION  
 **PRIORALRT:** COCOONS ARE CAPABLE OF EFFECTORIZING BIOLOGICAL MUTATIONS ON FRIENDLY PERSONNEL  
- **PRIORITY OBJECTIVE:** FINDINGS MUST BE DISSEMINATED TO FRIENDLY ASSETS  
-ATTEMPTING TO CONNECT TO NEAREST MODULE…  
-CONNECTING…  
-FAILURE TO CONNECT TO MODULE  
-REROUTING AVAILABLE ENERGY FROM PURIFICATION ENERGY WEAPON TO GRAVITY-NULLIFICATION SYSTEM  
-ATTEMPTING TO EXTRICATE UNIT FROM COCOON

 **ALRT:** UNIT IS SUSPENDED FROM HIGH ALTITUDE  
-UNIT WILL NOT SURVIVE FALL FROM ALTITUDE IF GRAVITY-NULLIFICATION SYSTEM REMAINS AT CURRENT LEVEL OF EFFECTIVENESS

-COMPILING ALL AVAILABLE INFORMATION INTO DATA PACKAGE  
-…COMPILATION COMPLETE  
-ROUTING ALL AVAILABLE POWER TO IMPULSE DRIVE  
-OCULAR SYSTEMS REMAIN ACTIVE  
-TRANSMISSION SYSTEMS REMAIN ACTIVE

-EXTRICATION IN PROCESS

 **ALRT:** UNIT IS IN FREEFALL  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT IS IN FREEFALL  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE  
 **ALRT:** VISUAL CONTACT ON FORERUNNER MODULE  
-UNIT ATTEMPTING ORIENTATION IN DIRECTION OF MODULE  
-ACTIVATING IMPULSE DRIVE

 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT UNABLE TO CONNECT TO MODULE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT UNABLE TO CONNECT TO MODULE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT HALFWAY TO GROUND LEVEL  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT CONNECT TO MODULE  
 **ALRT:** UNIT CANNOT MAINTAIN ALTITUDE

 **ALRT:** UNKNOWN CONTACT APPROACHING  
 **ALRT:** UNKNOWN CONTACT IS BIOMECHANICAL IN NATURE  
 **ALRT:** UNKNOWN CONTACT DOES NOT MATCH KNOWN LOCAL FAUNA  
 **ALRT:** UNKNOWN CONTACT ON COLLISION COURSE  
-ATTEMPTING EVASION  
 **ALRT:** GRAVITY-NULLIFICATION MANEUVERING SYSTEMS OFFLINE  
 **ALRT:** IMPULSE DRIVE UNABLE TO EFFECT MANEUVERS  
 **ALRT:** COLLISION AT SPEED LIKELY TO DESTROY UNIT  
-DATA PACKAGE MUST SURVIVE  
-DIVERTING ENERGY FROM IMPULSE DRIVE, EFFECTORIZING REDUCTION OF SPEED

 **ALRT:** UNIT CAPTURED BY UNKNOWN CONTACT  
 **ALRT:** UNIT PLOTTING CURRENT COURSE  
-COURSE PLOTTED  
-NO CHANGES ASSUMED CURRENT COURSE BRINGS UNIT CLOSE TO MODULE  
-ALL POWER DIVERTED TO TRANSMISSION SYSTEMS  
-DATA PACKAGE MUST BE DELIVERED

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS – UNDER OCEAN SURFACE  
MODULE DELTA/FOUR**

 **-** UNDER ATTACK  
-LARGE LOCAL AQUATIC CREATURE ATTEMPTING TO CONSUME MODULE  
-MODULE HAS BECOME LODGED IN MAW  
 **ALRT:** CHOKING HAZARD

 **ALRT:** LOCAL AQUATIC SUPERPREDATOR SPECIES DESIGNATED HOSTILE  
 **ALRT:** UNABLE TO CONTACT COMMAND MODULE  
 **ALRT:** CANNOT CONTACT MODULES TWO, THREE, FIVE, SIX, AND SEVEN  
 **ALRT:** STRUCTURAL DAMAGE

-COUNTERMEASURES UNABLE TO DEPLOY

 **ALRT:** DISTANCE INCREASING FROM SPLASHDOWN POINT  
 **ALRT:** DEPTH INCREASING  
-AQUATIC SUPERPREDATOR SPECIES TENTATIVELY DESIGNATED TYPE-A LEVIATHAN  
-ATTEMPTING TO DISLODGE BLOCKAGE FROM MAW OF TYPE-A LEVIATHAN

 **ALRT:** ATTEMPT FAILED  
 **ALRT:** BIOSIGNS OF TYPE-A LEVIATHAN FLUCTUATING

-BASIC COUNTERMEASURES UNABLE TO OPERATE AT CURRENT DEPTH WITHOUT MODIFICATIONS  
-DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS OFFLINE  
-COMMAND ACCESS REQUIRED TO OPERATE DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS  
-NO COURSE OF ACTION AVAILABLE  
-SHUTTING DOWN ALL NON-CRITICAL SYSTEMS TO SAVE POWER  
-ROUTING AVAILABLE POWER TO STRUCTURAL REPAIR SYSTEMS  
 **-PRIORITY:** SENSORS ARE TO REMAIN ACTIVE TO GATHER INFORMATION ABOUT SURROUNDINGS AND ATTEMPT TO MAINTAIN POSITIONAL AWARENESS

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS – DESERT REFUGIA  
MODULE BRAVO/TWO**

-COMPILING STATUS REPORT AND INFORMATION PACKAGE FOR ALL ACTIVE MODULES  
-ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR COMBAT CAPABILITIES  
-OBSERVATIONS AND FINAL REPORT FROM MODULE GOLF/SEVEN  
-OBSERVATIONS AND CURRENT REPORT FROM MODULE BRAVO/TWO  
-EXPECTED OUTCOME OF ENGAGEMENT AROUND MODULE BRAVO/TWO  
-REPORT ON LOCAL FAUNA AND FLORA IN DESERT REFUGIA IN VICINITY AROUND MODULE BRAVO/TWO  
-REPORT ON LOCAL FAUNA AND FLORA IN URBAN REFUGIA IN VICINITY AROUND MODULE GOLF/SEVEN

-SENDING REPORT TO ALL ACTIVE MODULES  
-REPORT WILL RPT UNTIL INACTIVE COMMAND MODULE AND MODULE ECHO/FIVE RECIEVES

 **ALRT:** SECONDARY DEFENSIVE CORDON FAILING  
 **ALRT:** ENEMY FORCES HAVE BEEN REDUCED BY TWENTY-ONE PERCENT OF ORIGINAL STRENGTH

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND CITY LANDMASS – CANAL REFUGIA  
MODULE CHARLE/THREE**

-SECONDARY DEFENSIVE CORDON IN PLACE  
-WAITING ON REQUIRED COMMAND CODES TO SET UP EXTENSIVE DEFENSES  
-RECEIVING INFORMATION PACKAGE FROM MODULE BRAVO/TWO

 **ALRT:** ENERGY GENERATION NODES IN NORTHWEST SECTOR OF CANAL REFUGIA HAVE FINISHED CONSTRUCTION  
-ACTIVATING INNER CORE POWER NODES  
-EFFECTING REPAIRS TO BASIC COUNTERMEASURE PRODUCTION CAPABILITIES

 **ALRT:** EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3190 OBSERVING LOCAL CONSTRUCTS  
 **ALRT:** LOCAL CONSTRUCTS ARE ARMED WITH HIGHLY-DESTRUCTIVE ENERGY WEAPONS  
 **ALRT:** LOCAL CONSTRUCTS ARE REDUCING LOCAL FAUNA POPULATION  
 **-ANALYSIS:** POSSIBLE CONTAINMENT MEASURE?  
- **ANALYSIS:** DENIAL OF FOOD SOURCE TO ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR?  
-EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3190 TAGGED WITH CONTINUED OBSERVATION OF LOCAL CONSTRUCTS

 **ALRT:** EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3018 OBSERVING MASS ACTIVITY OF ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR  
 **ALRT:** ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATORS APPEAR TO BE ASSEMBLING A STRONGPOINT  
 **-COMBAT ANALYSIS:** CURRENT BASIC COUNTERMEASURE FORCE IN TOTAL POTENTIALLY CAPABLE OF OVERWHELMING ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR POPULATION IN DESIGNATED ZONE OF ACTIVITY  
 **-COMBAT ANALYSIS:** HOWEVER WITHOUT DEFENSIVE STRUCTURES OWN HOLDINGS WOULD BE VULNERABLE TO HOSTILE COUNTERASSAULT  
-EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3018 TAGGED WITH CONTINUED HIGH-ALTITUDE OBSERVATION OF ACTIVITY ZONE DESIGNATE **HOSTILE SPIRE 3-1**

-COMPILING OBSERVATION REPORT ON LOCAL COMBAT CONSTRUCTS  
-COMPILING OBSERVATION AND STATUS REPORT ON LOCAL FAUNA AND FLORA IN CANAL REFUGIA  
-COMPILING OBSERVATION REPORT ON INDUSTRIAL CAPABILITIES OF ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR

 **ALRT:** OBSERVATION AND LIMITED EXPLORATION OF APPARENT DERELICT EDUCATION CENTER BY EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3009  
 **ALRT:** SIGMA-3009 TAGGED WITH REMAINING ON OVERWATCH OF DERELICT EDUCATION CENTER  
 **PRIORALRT:** VECTORING EXPLORATORY PATROLS SIGMA-3020 THROUGH SIGMA-3049 TO EDUCATION CENTER  
 **PRIORALRT:** VECTORING COMBAT PATROL SIGMA-CHARLIE-3019 THROUGH SIGMA-CHARLIE-3029 TO SET UP FORWARD DEFENSIVE CORDON AROUND DERELICT EDUCATION CENTER

-COMPILED REPORTS WILL RPT UNTIL INACTIVE COMMAND MODULE AND MODULE ECHO/FIVE RECEIVES

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS  
CANYON SURROUNDING FORMER BRIDGE OF ****_DIRECTOR OF VENGEANCE_**

For almost precisely seventeen minutes, Clarke stood and watched the vacuum energy spire assemble itself, streaming the feed to both Spartan Martinez and Lieutenant Sherman's tacpad. The spire itself barely breached the surface, with the majority of the structure built under the ground. Aeona had clarified that this was a defensive measure, to protect the energy extraction equipment from hostile attack. The small dome peeking above ground level was non-essential to continued operations, yet still preferable to keep around.

The light from the design seed's construction processes slowly faded as more Forerunner material crept over the excavation zone, sealing the small generator off under meters of protective armor. Once the zone had been completely sealed, Aeona piped up. " _Generator at ninety-five percent completion. One minute remains until construction is finished._ "

"After we get power back on, what then?" Lieutenant Sherman asked over TEAMCOM. "We're stuck in a canyon, without either wings or rifles."

" _Once the command module has restored power, I will task the construction alcove to produce another design seed, one programmed to set up a small Sentinel construction facility, along with a more conventional power generation node. From there –_ "

Another voice butted in, the IDENT tag marking its identity as PFC G. Delve. "How are more Sentinels help us get up the side of a two hundred meter cliff?"

"Easy, you just climb on it, and… whoosh! Sentinel surfin', man!" SPC W. Chez boisterously chimed, the accompanying grin outright tangible.

"Two hundred meters straight up?" SPC J. Snyder groaned, "Naaaah, I'm not willing to accept suicide just yet."

" _While the idea of… Sentinel surfing… does conjure up unique images, that is not the intended outcome of establishing Sentinel production in the vicinity of the command module,_ " Aeona stated. " _With a healthy supply of Constructor Sentinels, I should be capable of establishing a series of tunnels in the side of the cliff, which will then be used as a means to reach the top. Aggressor Sentinels will bolster both our defense and our ability to take and hold territory, as well as providing us with comparatively cheap and quick reconnaissance capabilities._ "

Delve spoke up again. "Yeah? And what are we supposed to do while you're building these tunnels?"

" _I hope to be able to construct a simulation deck and connect it to the command module. With the information undoubtedly obtained by the other modules scattered throughout the island, it should be easy to program hardlight templates of the local fauna to run training operations against,"_ The UNSC intelligence replied. _"By the time the tunnel has been finished, Zebra Squad should be prepared to go into battle against whatever native creatures may be inhabiting this landmass… or retreat when incapable of effectively fighting against certain species. Some of the fauna detected after arrival were… extremely dangerous._ "

The timer on Clarke's HUD clicked on 00:00:00. A few seconds later, Aeona spoke up again. " _Construction complete. Spartan Mattias Clarke, please extend your left arm in the direction of the dome._ "

Clarke blinked, before inquiring, "Why?"

" _Because I need the interface gauntlet's codes to trigger the extractor's activation sequence._ "

SIV-311 sighed, before extending his arm. The gauntlet instantly flared to life, extending a disc-shaped energy field stretching from halfway up his upper arm to the tip of his hand, its surface rippling with a plethora of icons. "Woah!"

" _Amazing, isn't it? I can only assume that this might have been the progenitor of the shield gauntlets that the Kig-Yar carry around, given the Covenant's overall preference to imitate technology, rather than invent their own designs. Perhaps the earlier Covenant models still possessed similar capabilities, before they became simple mass-produced defensive measures? More information is required on this, of cour-_ " Aeona cut herself off, then sighed. " _Of course, xenoarcheology takes a rear seat right now. Sending activation codes…_ "

As the vacuum energy extractor was sealed off behind tens of meters of Forerunner adamantine, SPARTAN-IV-311 couldn't observe the activation sequence directly. He did, however, feel it, penetrating to the deepest part of his body, mind, and soul; a sudden absence of motion, of mobility, of essence, of vitality – and then everything was back to normal.

"What the hell was that," Lieutenant Sherman half-gasped over TEAMCOM. "Everybody… you all felt that?"  
A chorus of a combination of gasps, moans, and partial affirmations echoed over the communication channel in response.

" _That… was deeply unsettling. But it will be unnecessary to repeat that experience. The other modules will likely have already set their power systems up, and… oh, power's back on in the command module! Wait. No. Quick, follow the navpoint!_ "  
"Martinez, Sherman, talk to me! What's going on?!" Clarke barked, even as he took off for the entrance hall.  
"Lights turned on, and two columns rose out of the floor. No other changes," Martinez answered in his usual laconic tone.

"Keep the Troopers away from them! I'm almost-" Clarke paused as the hole he had crawled through to get into the hall slid closed, then abruptly opened again, this time not stopping until the entire barrier had split in two and retracted into the surrounding wall. "…There," he finished, before striding into the former command deck. "Aeona?"

Aeona's avatar coalesced next to Clarke, immediately waving her hand over the pillars in the center of the room. Both columns retracted, to be immediately replaced with a holotable reminiscent of those found on UNSC capital ships. Aeona marched towards it, placing both of her hands above the table and pulling them upwards.  
The map of the island-city established itself, slowly turning on its horizontal axis. Sweeping her arms out, the UNSC intelligence enlarged the image to the point where it took up the entire center section of the room.

" _Modules Four, Five, and Seven are either offline or never made contact in the first place. Module Four landed in the ocean and sank, Module Five landed incorrectly and tipped onto its side, and Module Seven… was lost to enemy action._ " The holographic images of Modules Five and Seven shifted colors appropriately; Five turning black to signify its disabled status, while Seven pulsed an ominous shade of red. Of Four, there was no sign other than a simple marker signifying where it had hit the water.  
" _Modules Two and Three have completed primary setup sequences, and their baseline defensive perimeters have also been set up. Module Two's perimeter patrols have already been engaged by a massed force of those bugs we spotted before touchdown… interesting, the other Modules have designated them as an arachnid species? In any case, I am transmitting the necessary codes to them now, codes to allow for the construction of focus turrets and advanced Sentinel uni- oh, you bastard!_ "  
Aeona whirled to face the two Spartans. " _That Knight, Lochagos… it sealed off the dreadnought's technological database! We have Constructors, basic Aggressors, autoturrets, focus turrets… and that's it! No Enforcers, no Protectors, just baseline countermeasures!_ "

Clarke cleared his throat, before responding, "That's disturbing. Can we still produce our own weaponry and vehicles, at least?"

" _I'll have to code the design seeds personally, but it shouldn't be a problem overall. Module Two, for example, has a stockpile of various blueprints… wait!_ " The UNSC intelligence clenched her fists, tensing up for a second before relaxing. " _It's a test! The technological database is locked away in segments! To unlock the segments, we have to go to each module and re-align them to this command post… each module aligned will grant access to more tech…_ "

"Knight's treating this as a game," Martinez growled. "Can you bypass this?"

" _I am currently functioning as a xenoarchaology intelligence, and do not have the same capabilities as a dedicated infiltrator or cyberwar specialist would. If I were to attempt to dismantle these blocks, we could lose valuable information, or the products of construction might be flawed in certain aspects. Given the complexity of Forerunner technology, this is not advisable._ "

"Of course," Clarke sighed. "Spin up the seed for the Sentinel factory, Aeona. Hell, spin up two, then send me the nav-points for where to plant them. After that, spin up some sort of armory for the Marines, give them something that can effectively work against the local wildlife."

" _I already have taken the liberty of, as you say, 'spinning up' a seed for the Sentinel construction facility, and I am in the process of formulating the blueprints for the armory. The weapons, of course, will be constructed separately._ "

"Lieutenant Sherman, I need you to organize Zebra Squad into three fireteams," Clarke stated to the Marine officer. "Alpha is to remain here, in and around the command module. Bravo will be expeditionary. Charlie's assignment is to occupy Module Three once we get air transport up and running. Until then, they'll be running with Bravo."  
"Sir." The Marine nodded, then began to gather the other unaugmented personnel together to plan out the new organization of the soldiers within Zebra Squad.

"Apex Four, with me." Clarke started walking towards the entrance hall. "I might need to blow some holes in the ground."

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND CITY LANDMASS – CANAL REFUGIA  
MODULE CHARLE/THREE**

 **PRIORALRT:** COMMAND MODULE ONLINE  
-ALIGNING WITH COMMAND MODULE  
-ALIGNMENT AT FIFTY PERCENT  
-ON-SITE ACCESS REQUIRED TO COMPLETE ALIGNMENT

 **PRIORALRT:** DERELICT EDUCATION CENTER NOW DESIGNATED ROSETTA CENTER; ON-SITE STRUCTURES MARKED AS C3-RC-1 THROUGH C3-RC-5  
ALRT: COMBAT PATROL SIGMA-CHARLIE-3025 ENGAGED LOCAL ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR PATROL  
-COMBAT PATROL LOSSES INCLUDE FOUR UNITS  
-ENEMY PATROL NEUTRALIZED IN TOTALITY

 **ALRT:** BASIC COUNTERMEASURE PRODUCTION FACILITIES CHARLIE-THREE THROUGH CHARLIE-FIVE NOW ONLINE

 ** _PRIMARY OBJECTIVE FROM COMMAND CENTER:_** ESTABLISH TERRITORIAL CONTROL OPPOSING ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR; LIMIT TERRITORIAL CONTROL TO CANAL REFUGIA  
 ** _SECONDARY OBJECTIVE:_** SECURE ROSETTA CENTER

 **ALRT:** LOCAL CONSTRUCTS UNDER OBSERVATION BY EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3190 ENGAGING ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR FORCE  
 **ALRT:** TWO CONSTRUCTS LOST, ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR PATROL NEUTRALIZED IN TOTALITY  
 **ALRT:** LOCAL CONSTRUCTS HAVE MODERATE SELF-REPAIR PROTOCOLS; ONE UNIT RECONSTRUCTED  
-LOCAL CONSTRUCTS RE-COMMENCING MOVEMENT  
-EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3190 TO BE SPLIT  
-EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3109-ALPHA TO CONTINUE OBSERVATION OF LOCAL CONSTRUCT GROUP  
-EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3019-BRAVO TO COLLECT COMPONENTS OF FALLEN CONSTRUCT AND RETURN TO STRUCTURE DESIGNATE C3-S0109  
-ROUTING CONSTRUCTOR FORCE TO STRUCTURE DESIGNATE C3-S0109; STRUCTURE MUST BE REMODELED AS PER FARADAY SPECIFICATIONS

 **ALRT:** EXTENSIVE TUNNEL NETWORK BENEATH REFUGIA; TUNNEL NETWORK DAMAGED IN CERTAIN AREAS, SURROUNDING UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE LEAKING IN  
-ROUTING COMBINED COMBAT-EXPLORATORY PATROLS WITH INTEGRATED CONSTRUCTOR UNITS TO MAJOR BREACH POINTS

||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS – DESERT REFUGIA  
COMMAND MODULE ALPHA/ONE**

Aeona floated through _Director of Vengeance_ 's mainframe, organized into a form in which she was more comfortable with; a massive immaculately sorted library. Enormous iron walls, wrapped with impossibly thick chains and clamped shut with padlocks, represented the sealed sections of the database.  
Directly in front of the intelligence lay her planning board; every blueprint that would be uploaded into a design seed would be born in this space. For Aeona, it took the form of a primitive blackboard, complete with chalk and other such ancient tools. All of it was just a facsimile, of course; she was capable of operating at higher speeds that might otherwise be conveyed by such a display.

Even as she began to piece together the blueprint for the command module's armory, of which she intended to build as a subterranean addition to the module, one that would be accessed from a staircase – yes, a staircase, not an anti-gravity lift – in the floor of the command deck; her consciousness was also split between the two Spartans outside, and inside Lieutenant J. Sherman's datapad. The other modules merely possessed traces of her intelligence, absolute baseline copies that would keep them running independently in case any or all of them lost connection to the command module.  
Given how that predicted situation had indeed transpired, her caution had been rewarded. The loss of Modules Four, Five, and Seven were unfortunate, and the fourth-generation UNSC synthetic intelligence suspected that Lochagos might have had something to do with Module Four going off course.  
Module Five failed to land correctly, though that might have been as a result of Module Six's proximity, or the last-minute changes made to Module Five's approach vector. Five's landing zone had become unstable shortly after touchdown, and the currently-unconnected and unpowered module was now lying on its side approximately one hundred and sixty meters beneath ground level. The tunnels beneath had simply collapsed under its weight.

Aeona repeatedly had cursed her decision to plant the two so close to each other. A recurring issue was a line of thought that she ought to have gone with her original dispersal plan. While one of the refugia below was completely unsuitable towards landing operations – the nest of tunnel accesses to the immediate south of the desert refugia – the crystalline refugia to the northwest of the urbanized sector was more than capable of hosting Module Six.  
She had abandoned the plan and hastily re-plotted Module Six's course after one final observation while on approach. If Module Six were to be even an inch off-course upon module dispersion, it would have smashed through a slew of crystalline structures on its way down. The collisions would only further knock it off course.

Module Seven's loss was disturbing. The urban refugia was completely infested with the local apex superpredators. She had set the module to begin producing Aggressor Sentinels on the way down, and had even relocated all of the dreadnought's existing stockpile of Sentinels on-site, including Command Aggressors and even Enforcers into the mix. Another line of thought that haunted her, despite her repeated stifling of such, was that she ought to have released Lochagos to hold down the proverbial fort, and thus left the dreadnought's Sentinels in their own modules instead of routing them to a failed defense at Module Seven. Lochagos might have been a significant source of trouble for them later on, but the Knight would have put up a solid defense against the apex superpredator species.  
It was a foolish idea that would only end in misery, but a persistent thought nonetheless. As it was, Lochagos' durance remained in isolation on Module Seven, sealed and contained deep within the structure, with no ability to access the world around it. The proverbial djinn in a bottle.

" _ALERT: SECONDARY DEFENSIVE CORDON REINFORCEMENT GROUP LOST. LARGE HOSTILE FORCE NOW DOWN TO FIFTY-EIGHT PERCENT OF ORIGINAL STRENGTH AS RECORDED UPON INITIAL CONTACT._ " a disembodied voice intoned over inter-module quantum communications. " _REQUEST TO ABANDON SECONDARY DEFENSIVE CORDON POSITIONS ALONG SOUTHERN APPROACH VECTORS IN TOTALITY. HYPOTHESIS: GIVING GROUND TO HOSTILE FORCE WILL TRIGGER PREDATORY INSTINCTS AND CAUSE LOSS OF RESTRAINT. CONSOLIDATION OF BASIC COUNTERMEASURE DEFENSIVE UNITS IS ALSO BENEFICIAL."_

"Module Two, plan approved. Commence at your discretion," Aeona replied. Through her connection to SPARTAN-IV-311's armor, she felt the first Sentinel facility design seed activate and begin to fulfill its intended role. Less than a minute later, the second seed followed suit. Timers flashed into existence to the right of her, displaying the remaining construction time. Just as with the vacuum energy generator, she was already instructing Fireteam Apex's leader on how to activate the soon-to-be completed facility with the interface gauntlet.

" _Aeona, can you spin up another interface device for Martinez here? Setting up these factories and any other structures would go a lot faster if there were two of us…_ "

Her avatar sighed. She herself had no cause to, but she found from repeated occasions that mimicking human behaviour often put organics at ease, or at least, more so than maintaining outward mechanical appearances and mannerisms did. "Spartan Clarke, I am currently coordinating combat efforts in three different sectors, as well as overseeing the construction process of not only the pair of Sentinel factories in front of you, but also the production process of the design seeds for our armory, the fabricators for inside the armory, a hydroponics facility to prepare food and drinkable water, and a barracks structure for the Marines and Troopers of Zebra Squad. I am also designing an aquatic version of Aggressor Sentinel for use in the canal sector to the east of our current location. The seed alcove is currently functioning at maximum capacity. Your request has been added to our current objective list in PN11."

" _Sorry for the overload. It was just a thought,_ " spoke SIV-311.

"The more ideas that are shared, the better we can be prepared."

" _…I think I'll be taking that phrase to heart,_ " Apex Lead chuckled. " _Fair warning, though, Jeremy's ideas might be a bit… inspired._ "

" _And what about plan Golf-Tango-Foxtrot-Foxtrot?_ " SPARTAN-IV-322 inquired.

" _Gee-Tee-Eff-Eff?_ "

" _Grand theft Forerunner fleet,_ " Apex Four commented.

" _Well… hell, were we really going to leave those ships to burn? Or let the Covenant take some?_ Red Light of Dying Stars _might not have been going anywhere without the Librarian's assistance, but the dreadnought we rode here on was functional enough to jump into slipspace on its own, even after it was sabotaged. And after… well, you know, that… well, no kidding, we weren't about to turn our backs on this opportunity. Hell… we'd probably be dead about now, anyways. You saw that reallocation order. A transfer to some sort of black-ink taskforce. ONI wasn't about to let us continue to walk free, not after what we saw._ "

SIV-322's response came in the form of a non-committal grunt, followed by a comment by the gunsmith. " _We could take the spooks. Fort up near Sarai's quarters, fill the passageways with traps, put up pre-arranged sightlines everywhere, turn the whole damn habitation block into a meat-grinder if we had to._ " He paused, then uncharacteristically continued. " _But if they were to go after your family in retaliation, or Samuels', or Michaelson's…_ "

" _It doesn't bear worth talking about. We're here now."_ Apex Lead chuckled. _"Here's a more pertinent plan. When Samuels and Michaelson find us, we'll submerge this city in Sentinels and purge the bugs, put all the dangerous critters into cryo and-slash-or relocate them somewhere else... then turn this place into our own out-of-the-way colony. Assuming the original population never returns, of course._ "

"And if they do?" Aeona inquired.

" _Well… we side with them, of course. Get rid of the bugs, run reconstruction operations, turn the majority of the city over to them again, then negotiate for land ownership of this region. End-result? Co-developed colony, with this command module becoming our embassy. At least, that's the ideal result._ "

"And if they are hostile, and do not take kindly to interlopers?" Aeona probed, already formulating an action plan for the Sentinels in the city in regards to potential contact with local sentients.

" _Then we take the city through force of arms and relocate them elsewhere. Or we deconstruct our territorial modules, strap together as many design seeds as we can to produce a Stalwart, and fly off for better pastures. While, of course, putting a few spanners into local industry, just so that they can't follow us all that quickly… hey, wait, can't you-_ "

"Design seeds are capped at a certain size. While stacking design seeds together would allow for the size limit to be bypassed, it also carries certain risks that the device or vessel in question might be assembled or generated improperly. Until four modules have been realigned, I would not take the risk unless absolutely necessary," Aeona explained, once again 'sighing' at the end of her statement.

"... _Damn._ "


	5. 5: Beachhead, Phase 2

**CHAPTER FIVE: BEACHHEAD, PHASE TWO**

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **ARRIVAL CANYON - WEST OF COMMAND MODULE**  
 **4H EST (EARTH-STANDARD-TIME) POST-ARRIVAL**

"OY," PFC Delve bellowed over TEAMCOM, "WE GOT SOMETHING HERE!" With the report thus filed and the navpoint no doubt deployed, the Army Trooper bent to observe his discovery more closely.  
Gerald and Wilfrom had been on "patrol" when they had stumbled over the object - literally. It had been mostly buried under a layer of sand, with only a small section of it at the surface. And, of course, Delve had tripped directly over it, his attention having been drawn to one of the immense walls of the canyon around them at the time. Or rather, the massive rockslide lying more than a kilometer ahead of them.

Half a minute later, rapid footsteps pounding behind the duo - accompanied by the hum of Sentinel impulse drives - signified the approach of one of the Spartans and some of the AI's proxies.

"What did you find?" The Spartan inquired as he came up alongside the pair of Troopers. "A... Aeona, what am I looking at?"  
" _Everybody stand back,_ " the intelligence replied.

Six angular Forerunner constructs circled around the three UNSC personnel as they complied; five of the Sentinels subsequently descending towards ground level and beginning to excavate around the object with their manipulator arms, while the sixth turned to face them. The Sentinel's blue optic flickered, projecting a holographic image of Aeona's avatar in front of the group.

" _I have taken a scan of the construct,_ " Aeona stated, holding out her arm. Another holographic image spun into existence alongside the intelligence's; that of a bipedal, decidedly robotic being with menacing implements welded into its arms. Its elongated head displayed a short pair of mandibles and sported a pair of curved protrusions underneath what could have been considered its jawline had it been biological - or biomechanical. Multi-jointed legs kept the construct upright. As the group watched, the mechanical creature reconfigured itself into a quadruped form; with its head, arms, and legs swiveling a full 180-degrees before it stalked around in place, using its weapons as improvised legs to hold itself up from the front. " _It matches the profile of the active constructs observed by Module C3 in the Canal Refugia, albeit with slight differences in armament design. They are quite dangerous, though this particular one has been rendered inert. Very interesting. Two sample groups is not enough to draw a conclusion from, but perhaps each refugia has - or had - their own individual subvariants of constructs?_ "

The AI turned around to stare at the Sentinel projecting her image. "That is interesting. But now that I know what to look for... oh."  
The Spartan's VISR pulsed, as did the HUDs of the two Troopers. The half-excavated construct was subsequently highlighted by a dull orange color, surrounded by a crimson outline. More highlighted shapes began to appear around the group, all of which were buried under the sand. Both Chez and Delve drew their new M6C sidearms, covering their respective flanks, while the Spartan reached for his rifle.

" _There is no danger. All of these constructs are currently inert._ "

"Yeah, for now," Delve responded. "What happens when they reactivate?"

" _I detect no energy signatures from any of the constructs. Some of them have been damaged as well, though the manner in which they were does not match the capabilities of the local apex superpredators, outside of standard kinetic impact. Some manner of battle was fought here against something other than the biomech-insects, and these constructs lost. The likelihood of spontaneous successful self-reactivation is minimal._ " Eight more Aggressor Sentinels flew overhead, escorting a flock of smaller Constructors. " _I will set up a structure in this area to study these constructs further. The rockslide further west shall provide enough raw materials for construction purposes. The rest of you should return to base. The tunnel is nearly complete, and so are your transports. Time is short_."

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND CITY LANDMASS – CANAL REFUGIA**  
 **MODULE CHARLE/THREE**

 **ALRT:** QUATERNARY DEFENSIVE CORDON ENGAGED BY OPPOSING ARACHIND APEX SUPERPREDATOR GROUP AT POINT C3-J34901  
-ENEMY FORCE NEUTRALIZED  
-SIXTY-NINE PERCENT OF ENGAGED COMBAT PATROL UNITS REMAINING

 **PRIORALRT:** TOTAL POPULATION OF ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATORS IN CANAL REFUGIA INCREASING, HOSTILE ACTION GROUPS MASSING AROUND SPIRES 3-1 THROUGH 3-5  
CONCLUSION: MASSED ENEMY ASSAULT LIKELY  
-CONSOLIDATION OF TERRITORY AND AVAILABLE ASSETS COMMENCING  
-TERITARY AND QUATERNARY DEFENSIVE CORDONS RETREATING TO SECONDARY DEFENSIVE CORDON POSITIONS

 **ALRT:** LOCAL CONSTRUCTS UNDER OBSERVATION BY EXPLORATORY PATROL SIGMA-3190 ON COLLISION COURSE WITH ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR FORCE AT C3-J34988  
-SIGMA-3190 SET ON OBSERVATION MODE, NO INTERFERENCE

 **ALRT:** RECOVERED CONSTRUCT CPU DAMAGED, DATA RETRIEVAL INCOMPLETE - DECRYPTION IMPOSSIBLE WITHOUT FURTHER STUDY  
 **ALRT:** RECOVERED CONSTRUCT WEAPON SYSTEM STILL OPERATIONAL - HIGH-INTENSITY DIRECTED ENERGY WEAPON  
-PREVIOUSLY DAMAGED FROM EXPOSURE TO EXTREME ENERGY DISCHARGE, SEVERAL COMPONENTS INSIDE HAVE BEEN MELTED  
-POSSIBLY OPERATING AT REDUCED EFFICIENCY OR CAPABILITIES

 **ALRT:** MULTIPLE TABLETS FOUND IN ROSETTA CENTER DETAILING ARRANGEMENTS OF CURRENTLY-RECORDED THIRTY-FIVE DIFFERING CIRCULAR SYMBOLS  
-POSSIBLE LANGUAGE?  
-ADDITIONAL RESEARCH IS REQUIRED  
-ROSETTA CENTER NOW MARKED AS LATCHKEY SITE  
 **PRIORALRT:** MAINTAINING CONTROL OF ROSETTA CENTER NOW PRIMARY TARGET  
 **PRIORALRT:** BASIC COUNTERMEASURE PRODUCTION FACILITY MUST BE SET UP IN IMMEDIATE LOCAL AREA AROUND ROSETTA CENTER

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - UNDER OCEAN SURFACE**  
 **MODULE DELTA/FOUR**

 **PRIORALRT** : TYPE-A LEVIATHAN HAS CEASED ALL MOVEMENT  
 **PRIORALRT** : CURRENT LOCATION IMPOSSIBLE TO DETERMINE  
-DEPTH AT EIGHT POINT FOUR KILOMETERS FROM SEA LEVEL, ESTIMATED FROM LIQUID PRESSURE  
-CANNOT CONTACT OTHER MODULES  
-BASIC COUNTERMEASURES UNABLE TO DEPLOY  
-CONSTRUCTING AND DEPLOYING CONVENTIONAL ANCHORS

 **PRIORALRT** : ALL NON-CRITICAL SYSTEMS TO GO INTO QUIESCENCE UNTIL CONTACT REESTABLISHED  
-SENSORS TO REMAIN ACTIVE TO CATALOG LOCAL AQUATIC SPECIES  
-CONSTRUCTION OF COMMUNICATION AND SENSOR BUOY INITIATED  
-CONSTRUCTION OF DEFENSIVE MEASURES INITIATED

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **ARRIVAL CANYON - COMMAND MODULE EXTERIOR**

"Alright. We're short on time, so let's make this quick. Module Two's not too far away from us, so the ride there shouldn't be much of an issue. We'll be approaching the module from the west, but the only entrance is on the northmost point of the structure. Aeona's sealed up the rest. Once we get inside, Zebra-Charlie is to head directly for the Pelican and get it ready for launch. Apex Four, you take Zebra-Bravo and secure the other aircraft in the module. Aeona should be able to direct you to them. If the pilots are still with them, we'll need one of them to fly the Pelican to Module Three. I'll head to the central core and realign Module Two to Alpha." Spartan Clarke clapped his armored hands together. "Right now, the Sentinels are keeping the bugs at bay, but that won't last for long. If we don't get that module realigned, we'll lose that position - and Alpha can't stand alone."

Clarke turned around and settled into his seat, before flicking the Warthog's activation switch. "Let's move!" he bellowed over the hum of the electric engine, the vehicle in question jerking forward and proceeding into the artificial tunnel ahead. Two more M12s followed behind, one almost colliding with the side of the entrance were it not for a last-second course correction.

The tunnel swiftly developed a noticeable incline, which became steadily steeper as the group ascended. Sapphire light shone from indents in the walls and ceiling positioned in five meter intervals, with thick bands of silver material surrounding the illumination sources. Every twenty meters, the expeditionary force passed by an alcove, each of which were completely bare of any contents other than the ubiquitous light sources. On two separate occasions, the last vehicle in line almost veered off course and into the alcoves, but once again barely avoided the imminent crashes. Scraping the walls, however, occurred more often.

One minute later, the small convoy emerged from the tunnel and onto the surface once again. In front of the group, a plateau stretched off for a while into the distance, but eventually terminated in yet another cliff. Northeast of the convoy, the plateau continued on out of visual range, yet a swift consultation of their map systems would show that it, too, eventually met its end close to the sea. To the south of the of the group stretched a semi-flat ridgeline, bordered on both the eastern and western sides by precipices leading to unsurvivable drops.  
Across that line and the subsequent plateau laid their objective. Module Two rose out of its own valley, its peak reaching nearly sixty-four meters above its neighboring cliffs, while the rest of its bulk was still obscured by the geological features between the group and the structure. The convoy swiftly traversed the path between the two plateaus, the hindmost vehicle once again wavering from side to side, though nowhere near the bordering cliffs.

The vehicular force swept across the next plateau and rolled to a stop around forty meters from the edge of the precipice between them and Module Two. The third vehicle also ceased its forward travel, power-sliding to its right side and kicking up a small dust cloud in the process.  
Spartan Clarke exited the lead vehicle and walked up to the edge, peering over the side.  
While the module's impact had damaged its surroundings to some extent, the few sections of the precipice that had collapsed were still quite insurmountable to those lacking power armor, and were certifiably inaccessible by most ground-bound vehicles in the UNSC's arsenal.

"What now, Aeona?" Clarke inquired. A simple glance over the edge confirmed the theory that his armor's thruster pack alone would not be sufficient enough to negate the pull of gravity enough to render the fall survivable. "The Marines can't make the descent, and none of us are carrying jetpacks."

" _One moment_ ," the intelligence replied. " _Odd. There should have been an interface console nearby... though I do not detect any in your immediate vicinity. Expanding search - oh_."  
A navpoint flashed up on Clarke's HUD, directing his attention to a spot around twelve feet away from the edge. A small oval-shaped object was buried beneath the rock, the device in question being highlighted in orange.  
" _It would seem that my local counterpart failed to initiate the design seed before planting it. Fortunately, this can be done remotely. If you will please direct your-_ "

"Same thing as before," Clarke inquired, already stretching out his left arm, opening up the relevant menu on his Forerunner interface device, and establishing a connection between the design seed and the command module. The seed almost immediately unfolded, rapidly taking rock into its small foundry and forging a rectangular pedestal, which less than twenty second later punched through the now thin cover of stone between it and the surface. A familiar display appeared near the top of the podium; a series of concentric circles with an open hemispherical line surrounding the upper half of the image, with two small circles on either end of the line.

" _There, that should do it,_ " Aeona announced over TEAMCOM as SIV-311 strode towards the pedestal. " _I have linked it to Module Two's northwestern access bridge, which should become active once the console is activated-_ "

Clarke pressed his palm against the centermost circle before turning back to the lead 'Hog and jogging in its direction, not bothering to watch as the two outer circles traveled up the hemispherical line and meshed together at the top, before the entire display cracked away as the hardlight interface was dispersed.  
A sapphire surface coalesced into existence, spanning between the edge of the cliff and a section of the module. Less than three seconds later, a massive cloud of Sentinels erupted from the base of the monolithic structure, flowing in two distinct streams to the south of Module Two.

" _My counterpart in the Module has just deployed the last of its current stockpile of Aggressor Sentinels. There is a forty-three percent chance of victory through sheer force of arms in their upcoming engagement, given the current strength of the enemy force and their distance from their own established holdings. However, this is unlikely to deter the local superpredator species for long, and the next organized super-pack sent our way will possibly plan against our current strategies._ "

"All the more reason to hurry up," Clarke said, climbing back into the driver's seat of the Warthog. "Zebra Squad, move out!"

As the UNSC convoy raced across the illuminated span, Aeona continued to speak. " _I have uploaded schematics of Module Two to your TACPADs. Internal illumination is spotty in certain areas, though there is no risk of falling off of any ledges once inside. On a less serious matter, I have also decided to construct a vehicle testing track here, instead of at the Command Module. There are a number of subterranean passages below this area, and two of them have met criteria for conversion into obstacle courses. Once this Module has been realigned, I can begin construction in earnest._ "

A hole opened up as the group approached the end of the bridge, with five thick rectangular plates sliding up into reccessed slits in the wall. All three Warthogs hummed inside, quickly reaching the end of the immediate passageway beyond their access point.

Jeremy was the first to disembark, drawing his custom-built sidearm and clutching the inactive hilt of his energy machete in his other hand. " _There's no need for that, Spartan Martinez. There are no hostile combatants in the immediate vicinity of the module... yet,_ " Aeona assured the SPARTAN-IV.

"Better safe than sorry," the gunsmith rumbled in response, before pointing his fingers at the locked door in front of the group. "Are you going to open it or am I?"

The red line at the center of the door flashed green, with the former barrier subsequently splitting into three sections and the components sliding into the frame. Behind the group, the quintuple-segmented hatch slid closed once more, the ambient light surrounding the access point shifting from a soft blue to dark crimson.

"Alright. Apex Four, take the Troopers and secure the hangars," Clarke ordered. "I'll realign the module and meet you at the Pelicans. Let's get this done quick."

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **ALPHA BASE**

Aeona was following the progress of the forward-deployed UNSC personnel when the alert came in. It was faint, almost a whisper, but the contents were troubling... if the report was correct.

There was another module in the immense cavern that surrounded the island-city; one that was nowhere near the landmass in question, instead being located near the southern area of the cavern wall. In other words, a module seperate from those that had been deployed from the mortally-stricken dreadnought as it had passed over the island.  
The potential eventualities from such an occurence were troubling. Was this some form of trickery or aggression from Lochagos, or perhaps the Covenant had somehow managed to engage modular dispersial of that particular section while the dreadnought was in its holding pattern? The latter seemed more likely, given the contents of the alert.

 **PRIORALRT: SIGNIFICANT ENERGY DISCHARGE DETECTED**  
 **PRIORALRT: ENERGY DISCHARGE EQUIVALENT TO THAT OF TYPE-47A MINING/RETREVIAL PLATFORM**

The origin of the message was signed off as Module Delta/Four, but the errant module being the source of the alert was unlikely. The distance involved was too great. The likeliest explanation was that the Covenant destroyer that had been overseeing the salvage operation back on Requiem had somehow managed to track their passage through slipspace, and had pursued them to their current location, albeit being unsucessful in transitioning into the humongous cavern for some unknown reason. The Covenant were therefore attempting to bore their way into the cavern, where they would undoubtedly have their destroyer make a microjump inside the colossal space after discovering the sheer scale of what lies inside.

Without at least five modules realigned to Alpha Base, there was very little that Aeona could bring to bear against a RDV - let alone a CPV - that could unduly threaten it in any significant manner.

And if the report was correct, the Covenant were less than a minute away from gaining entrance to the cavern.  
Their adventure was about to be over before it had even truly begun. And without the modules aligned to Alpha, there was no way to deconstruct the complexes before the Covenant would inevitably reach them. Her only hope would be that Lochagos would challenge the Covenant over the destruction of the former Warrior-Servant's old flagship, and seal off the database from Covenant access... or else significantly more human lives would be at stake then just their small group of deserters.


	6. 6: First Realignment

**UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **MODULE BRAVO/TWO**  
 **COMMAND DECK**

Spartan Clarke slid to a stop in front of yet another damn wall, reaching out with his interface device and connecting with the mechanisms within the disguised barrier. Seven seconds later, the wall split into five sections and flowed outwards, granting access to the chamber beyond.  
Eighteen minutes. Eighteen minutes of continuous doors, hatches, angled hallways, and false walls, broken up every now and again by annoying crawlspaces. Almost immediately after stepping beyond the threshold of the hidden doorway, the components swung back into place and the chamber was plunged into darkness.

The Spartan's VISR rapidly filled in highlights of various potential obstacles in the zero-light environment, before planting a navpoint on an object in the center of the room. Apex Lead cautiously approached the unknown device, raising his left arm and opening the Forerunner gauntlet's holographic menu. The subsequent emanation of light revealed the object's shape; a diamond-shaped assembly of Forerunner material, with the bottom half of the diamond slanting inwards sooner than the top half.  
Outside of the adamantine diamond and a suspicious arrangement of chest-high decorations, the chamber was completely bare. Clarke circled around the diamond, taking note of the observation that the rear of the object was somewhat indented instead of stretching outwards like the other three sides, before coming to a halt at the front of the moderately-sized Forerunner mechanism.

"What now, Aeona?" Clarke queried the UNSC intelligence, holstering his sidearm and scrolling through the circular menu on the interface device's hardlight shield.  
" _Hm,_ " the intelligence hummed, a holographic image of her avatar's head appearing above the interface device. " _Oh. Right. I will handle the operation this time around. Just keep your arm outstretched and your attention focused on the screen. Control nodes such as these require a different set of commands to be entered._ "  
The Spartan observed the hardlight display as eight different menus swept by, their relevant selection icons remaining highlighted for two seconds before the next menu opened up. The ninth menu remained inactive until Aeona hummed again.  
" _Oh. It would appear that I require your direct involvement with this one. Please select the icon shaped like a 'K'. It should trigger the control node's activation._ "

"Third row, fourth from the top?"  
" _That's the one._ "  
The Spartan pressed down on the relevant icon. The interface device glowed brightly, forcing his VISR to darken to protect his eyesight.  
The diamond-esque mechanism in front of him split apart into three distinct trapizoidal sections. Power surged through the trio of objects, now floating off of the ground and spreading open like the petals of a flower. Glittering cobalt bars began to flow down the sides of the three sections, the light forming patterns in the material as they descended towards the bottom of the object in question. Faint wisps of pale energy started to coalesce at the objects' bases, reaching out into the empty space between the floating shapes.

By the point that all three objects had reached a tilt of thirty degrees from their original positions, the energy channels had reached the very base of their respective sections. Blue light swiftly replaced the previously pallid, chalky emanations, surging into the center and swirling into a brilliant ball of sapphire-tinted energy. The three trapezoidals dropped to the floor, sliding into perfectly-molded receptacles that all but flashed into existence the moment that the orb had coalesced. Energy barriers swept over the objects as they gleamed within their respective grooves. The blue sphere began to rise upwards before releasing an energy pulse, pushing against SIV-311 and forcing the UNSC soldier nearly three feet backwards.

"AEONA?" the Spartan shouted, keeping the interface device pointed in the general direction of the mechanism while turning around and seeking cover behind one of the short walls near the module's control node. "What was that?"

" _A safety mechanism,_ " the intelligence replied, as the light in the room suddenly dropped considerably. " _You were standing in the way of the node core's protective physical shielding. You can lower your arm now. Module Two has been realigned. Control deck lighting reactivation in three, two, one-_ "

The familiar ambient illumination iconic to Forerunner structures abruptly flooded the chamber, bathing the Spartan's surroundings in sapphire light. SIV-311 slowly raised back to his full height, dismissing the interface gauntlet's shield and looking around. The orb of energy that had released the pulse was now sheltered within a large, horizontally-rotating spherical assembly of adamantine, with a shower of energy emanating from the bottom of the metallic sphere and into a receptacle built into the floor below. Cobalt light swirled through floor-carved channels protected by transparent surfaces, flowing off to the walls and disappearing beyond them. With the exception of the now-decorated access hatch, there was little else to observe in the dome-shaped chamber.

"Apex Four, Module Two has been linked with Alpha Base. Sitrep on the Pelicans?"

 **METRU NUI - PO-METRU DISTRICT**

A pair of figures watched as a seething column of Visorak pelted a formation of the mysterious flying constructs with spinner fire, obliterating nearly a third of their number. Orange beams lashed out in retaliation, raking the spiders' ranks and exacting considerable revenge for their fallen. The same scene repeated over a battle front nearly half a kio in width. Visorak struck, the robots retaliated, and the losses piled up. The Horde could afford to lose a lot more than the defending party, however, and the defenders were sure to fall within the hour. No more reinforcements approached from the direction of the foreign spire, whereas a fresh force of Roporak and Boggarak were well on their way.  
And then there was the Kahgarak to consider. Roodaka was still out of the city on some unknowable but malevolent task, and Sidorak was unlikely to let the Horde's ultimate weapon out of its cage, but the very presence of a Kahgarak in the rearguard of the battle was troubling enough to not go without notice.

"They put up a fight," the being to the right said solemnly, clutching his staff in his right hand while holding a telescope to his eye, focusing on a bipedal figure in the rearguard of the defender formation. The figure in question was gesturing at various points in its defensive line, as well as every now and again raising a glowing angular weapon and discharging orange bolts of energy in the direction of the Horde, before flickering off to a different location, dashing across the terrain in a partially-disassembled state before fully reforming at its next position. It was obviously some form of commander unit for the new arrivals, and the Visorak had made it a priority to completely submerge its location in Rhotuka spinners the second it made itself known. Removing it from the field had limited effect on the defending forces, however, and it was rapidly replaced by a near-identical copy within less than a minute whenever it was successfully destroyed. "Within just this metru alone, they wiped out... eight, nine percent of the Horde?"

"Three days later, the Horde will be at full strength again, even _with_ the other metru factored in," his assigned partner grumbled. "And we'll never succeed in driving the spiders out of that structure if they get inside. They'll have an unassailable position from where to breed."

"Le-Metru might be lost to us for now, but the Visorak have not attained victory here, Sarna. Not quite yet."

The prone figure seized her Kanoka launcher and waved it in the stooping figure's direction. "We followed your suggestion to not get involved in the conflict in Le-Metru, Rahaga. The Resistance might not have been able to change the end result, but we could have acquired samples of whatever weaponry these false-Rama are armed with. If we had their weapons, we could-"

"Any attempt to retrieve their tools from any battlefield would merely lead to your capture by the Horde. Roodaka is already aware of the threat your Resistance poses, and has likely ordered any samples to be destroyed or stored away inside their strongholds. Any tools you might come across will be a tr-"

Without warning, the spire lit up like the Coliseum on Naming Day, blindingly bright cobalt light blasting away the shadows and illuminating the whole canyon... and beyond. The Visorak screeched, the sudden change in light temporarily blinding them and shattering their cohesion. Almost like a solid mass, the constructs surged forward, capitalizing on their foes' weakness and carving straight through the Visorak vanguard, eight units in particular auguring in towards the massive brown-and-crimson spider in the very rear of the Horde's immediate army.

The spiders in the front lines broke and began to retreat, their number all but wiped out by the ferocious advance of the defenders. The main section of the assaulting force collided with them, preventing them from fleeing any further and temporarily jamming up the Horde's movement. Additional false-Rama units began to stream from the spire, flying high above the attacker force and dropping objects into the seething mass of spiders; objects that gave off a brilliant blue-white glow shortly after landing, before seeming to drag entire specimens of the corruptive Rahi inside glimmering, apparently self-excavated, pits.  
The new constructs, upon releasing their cargo, dive-bombed into the morass of energy beams and Rhotuka spinners, engaging the Visorak with cobalt-colored beams of their own.

The Kahgarak chose this moment to engage, firing its own spinner at the chaos in front of it, striking false-Rama and Visorak alike. The eight inbound constructs were swiftly whittled down to four, then to two, then one remained, now within less than seven bio of the elite spider - and a Keelerak spinner turned it into a flying pile of slag, the remains of the metallic combatant striking the ground and sliding to a stop no less than an average Matoran's length away from the creature.  
The elite Visorak strode forward, skewering the remaining portions of the construct with one of its front legs and tossing it to its side. It then began to charge up its launcher again, only for a bolt of red-orange energy to lance out across the battlefield and impact the top of the creature's abdomen. The spinner itself, fully-formed but awaiting release, discharged directly into the Kahgarak, which was immediately swallowed by a shadow and vanished from view.

Meanwhile, the spire itself began to shift its form. The peak slid downwards, becoming thicker and wider. Strands of material speared out from the sides, joining together to form bridges connecting the tower with its neighboring cliffs. What appeared to be balconies took shape, as bars of cobalt light pulsed from the top of the pyramid-esque structure, describing patterns in the surface on their way down into the ground. Finally, the very top of the pyramid structure slid open, though whatever it might have revealed was obscured due to the observers' viewing angle.

The Rahaga turned his attention back to the battle. Turrets had risen out of the pits in which some Visorak had fallen; of the unfortunate spiders, there was no sign. Visorak bodies and destroyed constructs laid over the battlefield, though unlike a few moments ago, it was the Horde that was in danger of breaking. It started as a trickle - one, three, seven Visorak in the rearguard turned away and began to scuttle in the opposite direction. Within the next half-minute, the entire formation seemed to fall apart, a quarter of their number in full retreat, with another half attempting a fighting withdrawal. The other quarter continued to fight, but were rapidly overwhelmed and all but scourged from existence by combined fire. More than seventy percent of the constructs vectored off after the fleeing Visorak, while another estimated twenty percent of their force split apart and began flying out over the metru. The remaining number busied themselves with collecting the remains of their fallen, often directed in their task by the bipedal command unit.

And then something happened that made the observers' blood run cold. The command unit stopped, turned to face them, and stared in their direction. Sarna sharply inhaled, as did the Rahaga. The construct's opticals narrowed, it tilted its head... and then it pointed directly at them. Seven of the new golden constructs dropped the components they were carrying and vectored in their direction.

Sarna was running before she fully processed the action, and the whirring of rotors indicated that the Rahaga was not far behind.

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
 **GA-TL2 LONGSWORD - CALLSIGN DELTA-ONE-ONE**

"-ready to land on... huh?"  
Staff Sergeant Nathan Altfield blinked in confusion. He had gone from weaving around a Forerunner warship larger than any space station the UNSC had ever constructed to keep its bulk between the Longsword and a hostile Covenant destroyer, while his co-pilot was also searching out a place for the aerospacecraft to land and clamp down on the supercapital vessel, since all the hangars had either been sealed off or were full to capacity with comparatively smaller Forerunner naval assets or were occupied by Covenant.  
And now there were in a Forerunner structure, unmoving and without power. The whiplash of the situation was... difficult to comprehend, at first.

"What just happened?" his co-pilot asked, both rubbing his organic eyelid and tapping on his synthetic eye. "Am I... are we dead?"

"I don't think the next life looks like this, Amundsen. At least, I hope not," Altfield nervously chuckled, getting up from his seat and walking out of the control cabin. Airman First Class Charles Amundsen followed suit, opening up a cabinet and drawing out a set of helmet-mounted flashlights, as well as a repair kit. "I figure we got teleported onboard that monster of a ship, though I don't remember landing. We ought to do a full systems check before turning anything on, no need to risk a short anywhere, especially since we're unlikely to find any replacement parts that are not already in storage. Then we can go explore outside... provided that our EVA suits are still intact."

A series of vibrations emanating from further aft on the inside of the fuselage drew the attention of both aviators, who shared a look of nervous apprehension before cracking open another locker and drawing their respective sidearms from inside.  
"Covenant or Prometheans?" Charles nervously inquired, taking up position on one side of the hatch leading to the gunnery deployment section of the Longsword.  
"Does it matter?"  
Amundsen shrugged, clicking off the safety on his M6H and nodding to SSgt. Altfield. "Not really."  
"We'll just take a peek. If it's a pack of Grunts, we can take them. If it's a squad of Elites... we shut the door and seal it up. On the count of three. One, two-"  
Nathan slammed his empty fist on the button to open the two-part hatch. The metal barrier failed to move. The pilot hit it again, to the same effect.

"If we're without power, then..." Charles started, then trailed off.  
"Then how," Altfield began to finish, "are we supposed to open a mechanically-sealed door?"  
The pair of UNSCAF personnel stared at each other, before turning their attention to the Longsword's front dorsal hatch.  
If they were going to leave, they would have to walk out the front door.

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **GA-TL2 LONGSWORD - CALLSIGN DELTA-ONE-ONE**  
 **DORSAL CANNON SERVICE BAY**

"Hey, anybody in there?" Private Dolic Nordstrom shouted, pounding on the hatch that led into the foremost section of the Longsword's fuselage. "UNSC Army, open up!"  
A minute passed with no reply from the other side. Shrugging, the enlisted trooper went back to the compartment he had climbed in through, and poked his head outside of the aeroframe. "There's no answer from the cockpit, and there's nobody in the other areas either. The door to that area is sealed up and the power's out. There's no emergency lever to open it, either."

" _Martinez,_ " the Spartan fireteam leader spoke over Zebra Squad's expeditionary comm channel, " _go help Private Nordstrom get the door open_."  
The bulky armored figure in question turned and began to stride in Nordstrom's direction. The Private quickly skidded out of the way of the Spartan as the UNSC supersoldier reached the Longsword's fuselage and started to climb inside, only to freeze upon the sound of a heavy clunk. The sound repeated twice, each time preceded by the augmented soldier attempting to force his way further inside.

"Lead," the temporarily-immobilized walking tank growled over comms, "Entry point too small in current configuration. Cannot advance."  
" _We can't exactly cut open the service bay, Apex Four,_ " the other Spartan replied. " _Do you have an energy dagger on you or something?_ "  
A pause. Then the Spartan sighed, extending his left arm into the bay and removing a section of the armor covering it. Dolic watched as the supersoldier continued to dismantle the vambrace, soon exposing the limb - the metallic limb - beneath.  
Without any warning, the artificial arm split apart into several floating segments. The Spartan shifted through the array of components, his fingers eventually grasping a significantly sizable chunk of material near the wrist section and retreving it from the collection of pieces. The arm immediately re-assembled itself once the space to do so was clear, though the Spartan made no move to reattach the sections of his lower vambrace.

"Affirmative," Apex Four growled. "Energy bayonet." He motioned to Private Nordstrom to approach, holding the cylindrical device out for the enlisted soldier to take. "Blade does not extend far. Should still sever locking mechanism. Knock signals before cutting."

The private leaned down to acquire the weapon, taking the object in his hand before inquisitvely glancing at the Spartan. "So, how do I turn it on?"

 **UNKNOWN LOCATION**  
 **GA-TL2 LONGSWORD - CALLSIGN DELTA-ONE-ONE**

"Definitely Covenant." Nathan grimaced as the thumping and discordant knocking increased substantially. "If they were Prometheans they would have teleported in with us already."

As if on cue, a crimson blade punctured through the seam of the hatch, cutting down its length in a fashion akin to a sizzle-blade through a slab of butter.  
Both pilots took up their positions on either side of the cockpit access passage, Amundsen arming the explosives the duo had set up on and around the Longsword's control surfaces and conduits.

It took very little time for the blade to reach the bottom of the hatch before vanishing. Both UNSCAF personnel braced themselves for the door to be wrenched aside and the first Sangheili to emerge - only for the door to barely budge.

"UNSC Army, anybody alive inside?" A voice called out from beyond the hatch. Staff Sergeant Altfield blinked in surprise, as did his co-pilot.

"Covenant trick," Amundsen grumbled, positively shaking with tension. "What do you see, Sergeant?"  
The blade reappeared again, this time carving a small hemispherical hole in one side of the hatch, just big enough to fit an average human hand. Seconds after the blade disappeared, the carved section slid out of the space it had formerly occupied, with the hole subsequently being filled by fingers.  
The hatch once again shifted by bare inches, and the voice called out again. "Private Nordstrom, UNSC Army. Anybody awake in here?"

"Are you alone, Private?" Altfield finally replied, his sidearm still concentrated on the hatch.

"Nope," the voice shouted back, "There's a Spartan with me-"

"Bullshit," Amundsen snarled. "Why would a Spartan be here when the ship is downright infested with Covenant? Wouldn't they be busy doing their jobs?"

A flash of light behind the two made both of the pilots jump in shock. A floating orb hovered in the center of the cockpit, staring straight forward down the hall. "For what it's worth-"

Amundsen yelped, emptying the entire magazine of his M6H into the metallic sphere, Altfield following suit. Both aviators stared in horror as every bullet shot at the orb hung suspended in midair for a few seconds before all twenty rounds dropped to the floor at once.

"Was that necessary? Your sidearms remain one of our few weapons still capable of inflicting damage to the local wildlife. Wasting ammunition like this is not particularly approvable," the orb stated in a tone not unlike that of a woodchipper. "I am UNSC AI Aton, commander-intelligence of Bravo Base. It is true that SPARTAN-IV-322 is currently half-inside of your GA-TL2's gunnery maintenance bay."  
Every explosive in the room abruptly took flight, attaching themselves to the construct's casing. The Longsword subsequently powered up, the airframe's sensors promptly revealing the full scope of the room and its contents.  
"There is much to discuss, and very little time to do so. Your services are very much required at this critical junction. We must have your support if we are to capitalize on our enemy's current weakness."

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **ALPHA BASE**

Aeona sighed. By the time the Sentinels reached the mysterious observers' location, they would be long gone. Aton might be an enlightened 'dumb' AI, spirited off of Commander Harry Faulk's PDA moments before they had left the Infinity, but the civilian-grade gambling AI was surprisingly effective at managing a battlefield, albeit a small-scale one. And its actions in the GA-TL2 had defused a potentially disruptive situation.  
However, Aton's decision to point at the observers had alerted them to the issue that they had been detected. If the AI hadn't done so, Aeona could have sent an Initiator Sentinel, backed up by two Assaulters and a handful of Aggressors to make first contact with a potentially friendly native population.  
Aton would remain an independent unit, of course. Though Aeona had total control of Module Two and all that it represented, Aton would continue on as a partial sub-commander, alleviating the stress of micromanaging Sentinels and structures across the entire refugia.

" _Upon linking Module Two to the command module,_ " another instance of her continued to explain to the biological UNSC service personnel in-theater, " _I have picked up on the location of every Forerunner power node scattered around this particular refugia. Each one activated will allow me to construct additional buildings in its vicinity, as well as bring local structures back online. This city had some form of mass transit system before suffering severe damage from some form of immensly destructive event, likely a 9.5R-plus seismic disaster. If we can bring it back to even fifty-percent coverage, it would make ground-based travel over long distances significantly easier. Of course, Pelicans and other such aerial transport craft will always be available to travel between modules, so the reconstruction and reactivation of the transit network is completely optional. Since Module Two has been realigned, I can use the Sentinels to activate these energy nodes. However, for unlinked modules, you will have to activate the power nodes directly, if you come across any._ "

Throughout all of this, her primary instance was developing a suitable BDU for the unaugmented personnel in-theater. Using the specifications of Semi-Powered Infiltration armor as a baseline, she used an Aggressor Sentinel's power core to fill in for the normal UNSC battery cell; the Forerunner energy core possessing an output equivalent to that of the fusion reactor of a generic suit of GEN1 MJOLNIR MkVI. Upgrading the power management system to match the increased energy supply was easy enough to do. The tricky part was the shields.  
Just like as during the Human-Covenant War, unshielded combatants were rendered combat-ineffective, or outright eliminated, if struck even once by the energy weapons integrated into the local apex superpredator species.

She had experimented with the shield strength on the Assaulter Sentinels during the counteroffensive in Module Two's vicinity, either turning them to minimal levels or sacrificing offensive power and overcharging the emitters instead. Even with overcharged shields, the Assaulters in question could only take two hits before unit loss; one to blow away the shield, and a second to finish the unit off.  
With normal Aggressor shields being near-equal to the shielding systems of the average SPARTAN-IV, this boded ill for SIV-311 and SIV-322. However, there was also the results of the low-level shields to consider. Above a charge of ninteteen-percent, the shields were able to protect the unit underneath from one energy discharge before collapsing. This would imply that the solution to their defensive problem was not just one or two strong shields, but a concentric array of weaker, rapidly-regenerating defensive barriers.

Implementing such a shield design for Sentinel constructs was an easy task, one accomplished within three minutes and soon put into production for all new-construction standardized Aggressors and Assaulters. Specialized variants such as the aquatic Sentinel designed for use in the canal refugia would keep their single-layered shields, as would Constructor Sentinel designs.  
Fitting the staggered shield design to biological infantry armor, however, was noticably more difficult.  
A perfect design would have seven layers of shields, if not more. Every layer would be a quarter as strong as that of standard GEN2 MJOLNIR defensive barriers, thus still offering the wearer adequate protection against Covenant and Promethean weapons fire.  
Aeona, however, was only able to cram three layers in. The scale of the shield emitters proved incapable of hosting more, and triple-level shields were already coming uncomfortably close to - but not yet incurring - the risk of destructive failure of the emitters if more than one shield layer were to fall at the same time. As it was, she had to double the amount of projection points to lessen the strain on the pre-existing components, and adding another layer would force yet another increase in the number of projection points.

Such issues could be solved in subsequent iterations, of course. At the moment, the unaugmented biological personnel in the local theater did not need a perfect standardized set of armor, just a functional one.  
Thirty-eight minutes after the commencement of the design stage, the first suit of PROJECT HOPLITE armor was pulled out of of its construction alcove, custom-fit for UNSC Army Lieutenant Jonathan Sherman.


	7. 7: Homecoming, Part 1

**SILVER SEA - TRANSPORT DESIGNATE _LHIKAN II_**  
 **ON APPROACH TO METRU NUI**

Toa Vakama stood near the prow of the hastily-rigged amphibious Vahki transport as it paddled over the surface of the protodermis sea, making the best speed available to it for terrain that the vehicle itself was never truly built to operate in. Unfortunately, _Lhikan II_ wasn't proceeding nearly fast enough.  
A massive tempest had brewed up without warning along the western coast of their island-city, its outer edges slamming the coastline with heavy winds and high waves. And now it was bearing directly down on them.  
The Toa had done all they could to speed up their arrival. Using his elemental control of ice, Nuju had frozen the sea directly beneath their makeshift vessel, giving it a proper prow and keel as befitting a watercraft. Nokama had used her control over the element of water to grant the transport a beneficial current. Matau had called upon the wind to push the transport closer to shore. It still wasn't enough.

Matau had suggested to turn back, an option that he had thoroughly rebuked. Every second that they wasted was another second that something might happen to the Matoran, imprisoned beneath the Coliseum in stasis capsules. The incredible bioquake that hit the city could have severely weakened the megastructure's foundations, or it could have opened holes in the underground storage halls connecting them to adjacent potentially-damaged Archive tunnels, or into the nearby sea, thus allowing dangerous Rahi inside. Or something else could have happened in their absence.

Nuju had used the telescopic sight on his Kanohi - an attachment that Vakama himself had forged, back when the two were both Matoran and virtually unknowing of each other's identity - to scout the city for any potential surprises. And the Toa of Ice had undoubtedly found some.  
For one, there was a disturbing number of Rahi on the loose in Le-Metru. Rahi and Rahkshi. The presence of the latter on the surface, especially in large numbers, deeply concerned the team. If the Rahkshi had moved out of the Archives in force, then the Vahki were either busy with other threats, had been shut down... or had been subverted entirely to Makuta's control. And if the Vahki had been shut down... then what would keep the Matoran safe from further harm until they got to the Coliseum?

The other troubling issue was the appearance of a vaguely pyramidical structure in Le-Metru, a structure large enough to reach above the district's skyline - or whatever the Toa of Ice could see of its skyline. Most of the view of the district from the sea was obscured by fog and... something else... but the mysterious structure stuck out above whatever was obstructing their view. It also was most definitely not there when they had left the island-city before.

A third complication was the flash of sapphire light in the far-off distance during the previous day. The skies were clear back then, but the permanent half-darkness of the colossal space that housed the island-city and its surrounding ocean had allowed them to notice it, at least more-so than if both suns had been visible.

A wave crashed over the starboard side of the transport, forcing Vakama to hold on to the railing, lest the leader of the Toa Metru lose his balance and fall. Nuju, Onewa, and Whenua were already below, lessening the chances that any of them might be swept away if a larger wave were to strike their vessel.

Before long, the storm had struck them, colossal waves rising up all around the _Lhikan II_. Every time that they failed to cross over one before it crested, or that it would crush their comparatively tiny vessel, or that it would propel them far away from their intended destination, the wave subsided before it broke, thanks to Nokama's intervention. But the Toa of Water was tiring rapidly, and the storm simply had more raw power than all of the Toa combined. Lightning lanced down all around them, but so far they had been lucky to avoid any direct strikes. That luck would soon run out, and then...

The craft suddenly vibrated as a low rumble echoed through the water beneath them. Nokama and Vakama both froze, glancing at each other, before all Karzahni broke loose.

Four substantial tentacles burst from the surface of the storm-torn ocean, two instantly coiling around the transport. The third slapped from side to side, probing for an entrance into the cabin, while the fourth augured directly for the driver's compartment. The Toa of Fire launched a fireball at the fourth appendage, striking it full-on but doing very little damage. Matau slashed at it with one of his aero-slicers, severing the tip of the tentacle and forcing the Rahi to swiftly retract its injured limb.  
Nokama drew both her hydro-blades and set to cutting apart the tentacles wrapped around their hull,. With a spray of fluids, both appendages came free and were promptly pulled back beneath the surface. The third tentacle followed suit, its end now covered in a thick sheet of ice.

Onewa was the first out on deck, shouting to be heard over the gale-force winds. "What in Karzahni was that?"  
Before either Nokama or Vakama could formulate a response to the now irate Toa of Stone, an answer was given to them. Half of the body of a tentacled whale-esque creature burst from the surface of the ocean, trapped in the jaws of a humongous serpentine monstrosity. A very familiar monstrosity.

The Toa of Stone cursed, instinctively crouching low on the deck as the creature swallowed the remainder of the first Rahi before turning its attention to the transport beneath it. It roared before diving back into the ocean, the resulting surge of water nearly capsizing them. Its passage was visible, moving away from the transport and into the depths once more.

"AS FAST AS YOU CAN, MATAU!" the self-declared leader of the Toa Metru bellowed, striding forward to the driver compartment and violently pointing at the Le-Metru coastline in the near-distance. Whatever Matau would have said in reply was forever lost when lightning struck within mere inches of the vessel's structure, blowing apart one of the Karzahni plant-creature's remains and tilting the transport to port. The Toa of Air began to compensate for the uneven buoyancy, keeping the _Lhikan II_ more-or-less pointed in the direction they needed to go.

Outside of uncountable close brushes with certain doom brought on by colossal waves, nothing else barred their passage for the next ten minutes. The coastline drew closer and closer, the storm seemed to be weakening, and no tentacles had coiled around their makeshift watercraft. And then Matau uttered the fateful words.  
"I THINK-HOPE WE'RE GOING TO SAFE-MAKE IT!"  
Four occurrences happened at once. A second blue flash lit up the sky to their north-northeast, in much the same manner as the first. A gigantic wave rose up on their port side, large enough to both end all hopes of evading it or surviving the event in which it would break over them. A dull roar echoed through the water and vibrated the repurposed Vahki transport. And a set of very sizable jaws, attached to a body that boiled the water around it, burst out of the sea and vectored towards the doomed vessel.

The oncoming wave exploded. Something emerged from it, something half a kio wide, its surface texture glimmering in the light of the storm. The shape slammed into the Rahi, completely halting its forward momentum and shoving it back in the direction it had emerged from, with the creature subsequently plunging back into the depths. The new Rahi immediately pursued, its frontal section submerging, but then jolting around as something humongous collided with it. The sea turned into froth as three massive serpents, near-identical to the creature that had devoured the whale from earlier, coiled themselves around the mysterious behemoth. In response, the creature began to hum.

The _Lhikan II_ surged past the brawling titans, continuing to close the distance to the shoreline. Everybody on board was keen on getting out of the water before anything else happened. The hum built to a crescendo, vibrations resonating through the transport's hull and forcing the Toa on deck to wrap their hands around their heads in an effort to drown out the noise.  
Nigh-on exactly thirteen kios away from the shore, almost directly even with the monstrous battle to starboard, disaster struck. Yet another serpent burst from the surface of the Silver Sea, soaring on a parabolic arc above the repurposed Vahki transport, its terminus point quite potentially being the center of the titanic slugging match between apparant superpredators. The creature was nearly completely out of the water when the unknown Rahi retaliated, a beam of blinding, incandescent energy blazing forth from its center mass and subliminating the fourth serpent's head and upper body. The rest of the aquatic serpentine Rahi simply dropped from the sky like a puppet with its strings severed, its massive bulk slamming into the transport and driving it deep beneath the waves.  
Sections of the _Lhikan II_ 's hull soon bobbed to the surface, accompanied by fragments of Karzahni trunks, but there was no sign of the doomed vessel's former crew.

* * *

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - DESERT REFUGIA**  
 **ALPHA BASE**  
 **RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT SUB-MODULE #2**

Aeona was applying the finishing touches on the second iteration of HOPLITE armor - incorporating various Forerunner Lifeworker technologies gleaned from Director of Vengeance's database after Module Three had been realigned - when the synthetic intelligence's concentration was utterly shattered by an incoming priority message screaming over the quantum 'tightbeam' communication channels that linked each Module to the other by standard.

 **PRIORALRT: UNKNOWN LIFE FORMS DETECTED INBOUND TO ISLAND CITY**  
 **PRIORALRT: UNKNOWN LIFE FORMS ARE APPROACHING BY WATERCRAFT**  
 **PRIORALRT: UNKNOWN LIFE FORMS HAVE WRECKED APPROX. SEVENTEEN POINT EIGHT ONE KILOMETERS FROM SOUTHERN SHORELINE OF URBAN REFUGIA**  
 **PRIORALRT: UNKNOWN LIFE FORMS HAVE MADE LANDFALL ON SOUTHERN SHORELINE OF URBAN REFUGIA**  
 **PRIORALRT: LIKELIHOOD OF CAPTURE OF UNKNOWN LIFEFORMS BY LOCAL ARACHNID APEX SUPERPREDATOR SPE-**

The message abruptly terminated after the sixth line. Once again, its origin point was signed off as Module Four. Aeona frowned, quickly tightbeaming a priority message of her own to Module Three's subordinate intelligence, directing it to investigate Module Four's landing site in greater detail. It would be an excellent test for the general utility capabilities of the new aquatic Sentinel variant she had spun up even before Module Three had been realigned.

With that done, the synthetic intelligence patched into the theater-wide priority communication channel to inform the biological UNSC personnel of this new turn of events.

* * *

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - CANAL REFUGIA**  
 **D79S-TC PELICAN - GOLF-33**  
 **AVERAGE THIRTY-EIGHT KILOMETERS ABOVE SEA LEVEL**

Spartan Clarke stared out of the Pelican's open rear hatch, gazing upon the fog-shrouded cityscape below. It was a profoundly disturbing sight, the way that the green mist seemed to suffocate the structures below, reminiscent of the footage from Installation 05 and Voi.  
Their situation was considerably different, of course. There was no biosphere-devouring parasite lurking below in the city or under it. Still, it didn't stop his mind from wandering, at times swapping the foreign architecture for that of a more familiar origin and thinking about what could have been, had certain events not occurred.

So engrossed was the Spartan in his thoughts that he heard none of the conversation going on around him until his helmet was abruptly slammed back over his head. His surprised yell went unheard as the component booted back up.

" _Quick-note version_ ," Aeona hummed once Fireteam Apex's leader had reconnected to THEAT-TACCOM, " _New aliens, possibly native species, numbering six in total. Unknown appearance, but definitely not Covenant. They made landfall on the southern coastline around an hour ago and proceeded into the urban refugia._ "

"Well, if they went in there, they're dead," Lieutenant Sherman declared. "We dropped an entire section of ship in there with active Sentinel guards and it got taken over within an hour."

" _While it is most important to secure a foothold within the industrial refugia during our temporary reprieve in this sector,_ " Aeona stated in response, " _time is fleeting if we are to do anything with this new window of opportunity. The apex predator species is gathered on the edge of the conflagaration zone in the industrial district, and the flames will diminish enough for them to make their resurgence in the territory within the next two minutes. However, they can just as easily shift to the south and flow into the urban refugia in response to any incursion there._ "

"So we split our forces. Again," Clarke said. "I'll do a touch-and-go deployment on Module Five, realign it, then wait for pickup from our Longsword. Apex Four, you continue on with the Pelican and run observation. Don't interfere unless absolutely necessary. We don't know who these new aliens are, or how they might react to us."  
The aforementioned Spartan acknowledged the order with a nod before striding to the Pelican's internal armory and drawing out a SRS99-S5 antimateriel rifle. Clarke then directed his attention to the Marine and Trooper in the aircraft's cargo bay. "Specialist Chez, PFC Delve, stay with the Pelican. If the aliens turn out to be hostile, you know what to do. And if they aren't... well, we'll need-."

" _Descending to disembarkation point on Module Five now,_ " Aeona interrupted as the Pelican tilted forward. " _A note of warning. Module Six is currently protected by a Forerunner defensive measure designated as a... the appropriate translation would be akin to "baffler". The... baffler field is highly dangerous to anything that enters it, as local geometry within the field's area of effect no longer intersects properly. The controls to deactivate the field appear to be within Module Five, though I am currently unaware as to their precise location. With the current situation, it would be strategically acceptable to leave the field engaged while we conduct retrieval operations in the urban refugia._ "

"Copy that."

The Pelican glided to a stop, the view from the rear hatch shifting from the scorched-bare rooftop-level cityscape to that of a half-open semi-large Forerunner doorway.  
Clarke turned to face the hatch, equipped his M395 DMR, and strode out of the transport aircraft.

The moment he climbed through the threshold into the module, the Pelican took off again.

* * *

 **METRU NUI - COLISEUM**  
 **FIRST TIER OBSERVATION BALCONY**

Roodaka, viceroy of the Visorak horde, observed the island-city from the balcony of its most imposing landmark. To the south was her quarry - six Toa, unaware of the danger they had stepped into, so full of confidence that they were blinded to their fragility. If Sidorak knew about their presence, he would have taken the field himself against them; even if only in the hope to regain some measure of glory after his recent defeats. However, Sidorak displayed only brute force in battle, and the potential loss of even a single Toa before she could extract their elemental powers would doom her plan before it could reach fruition.

In that manner, the invaders had become a problem. They had quickly expanded their territory over most of Po-Metru, and were even now conducting the same territorial expansion in Ga-Metru. It was fortunate that the invader tower in Le-Metru had fallen as quickly as it did, for her plans would be stillborn had the district in question been contested.

The viceroy turned her gaze upon Ta-Metru to the east. The firestorm that had ravaged the district had burned down to sparse patches of flickering light in the encompassing darkness. Somewhere within that darkness, Sidorak was leading the Horde to victory - or defeat. Whatever the outcome, it made little difference, as long as the Toa were captured. Preferably alive.

Continuing along the balcony until she arrived on the opposite side of the Coliseum, Roodaka contemplated the shimmering lights in the distance. The Venom Flyers she had sent out to sea to observe the temporarily lost sections of Metru Nui had reported that the invaders were repairing the damage inflicted on the city from the bioquake, reactivating local power grids and reconstructing buildings along the shoreline of Ga-Metru.  
It meant little in the end, of course. Once Makuta was free of his protodermic prison, the city would fall back under their complete control. Perhaps the invaders might then be granted a merciful death... or, given their industrious nature and meddling in the Makuta's plan, perhaps not.

* * *

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - URBAN REFUGIA**  
 **D79S-TC PELICAN - GOLF-33**  
 **ONE KILOMETER ABOVE AVERAGE ROOFTOP - HOLDING POSITION**

"Hey, Delve."

"What?"

"What do you suppose they're talking about?" the Army Specialist motioned to the screen displaying six armored biomechanical beings clustered around the wreckage of a robot near-identical to the buried unit that the person sitting next to him had tripped over back in Arrival Canyon.  
The feed was being broadcast from a floating ONI camera probe hovering near the ceiling of the structure in which the aliens had entered. As Specialist Chez watched, one of the beings - the brown-armored one - tore a receptacle straight out of the wall and set it down for the rest to examine. "...Note for later; don't fight them hand-to-hand."

"Sounds like electronic gibberish to me, Chez," the Marine PFC replied, barely taking a glance at the screen, his focus instead on his new weapon. The Marines and Troopers had been informed that their ordinary service weapons were of little effectiveness against the average biomech animal in the city. Fortunately, the ONI bird had been carrying some weapons of its own, including two forty-mike-mike guided micromissile launchers and six reload cylinders for the same weapon. The UNSC intelligence piloting the Pelican had already downloaded the 'Hydra' specifications and blueprints, and was busy producing more optimized ammunition - as well as an underbarrel version for the new service rifle that was in the design phase - but their small fireteam on the Pelican was very much on their own for now.

"I didn't ask 'hey, do you understand what they're saying', I asked..." Wilfrom trailed off before shrugging. "Never mind."

" _Inbound contacts,_ " Aeona declared as the Pelican shifted to port. " _Local robotic purification and sanitation models, six in total, closing in from the southeast and southwest. Also detecting three individuals of the arachnid apex predator species moving into an overwatch position at this location. Likelyhood of overall detection by local groups at 11%._ "

"Intelligence," the Spartan intoned over the Pelican's internal communication line as the fireteam's HUDs blinked with the updated tactical information. "Shift sixteen meters to the east."

The Pelican conducted the maneuver for the requested distance, then stabilized itself while maintaining its altitude. By the time the airframe had finished its adjustments, the sanitation bots had engaged the six bipedal humanoid biomechs, who subsequently fled to the monumental structure next to the potential former maintenance post for the attacking constructs, entering it through a crack in the building's wall.

The six sanitation bots closed in on the ingress point, only for a seventh slightly-different model to emerge from the hole. Ten seconds passed by before Aeona let out a surprised whistle.

" _I do not fully understand how it's doing so, but I'm detecting two overlapping signatures coming from the black-armored sanitation construct. One is obvious, but the other partially matches that of one of the unknown life-forms. It is not just a simple hardlight covering, but something much more intricate. An impressive disguise, to be sure, and one that very much merits further investigation... if we ever have the ability to do so, that is._ "

Something obviously tipped the robots below off, however, as all six legitimate purification bots promptly raised their weapons and pointed them in the direction of the ersatz construct. Energy levels began to increase, the devices building up enough energy to destroy their target.

A second passed. Two seconds. Abruptly, the silence was shattered with a crack. Two seconds later, one of the sanitization bots' elongated heads split open, circuitry and wires taking flight as the 14.5x114mm APFSDS round found its mark. The construct's optics flashed thrice before going dark forever, and the robot slumped to the ground as its servos ceased to function.

Five pairs of optics swiveled to stare in their direction, only to be immediately cut down to four-and-a-half as a significant portion of a second construct's 'face' was forcibly removed from the rest of its head.

The camouflaged alien quickly retreated inside the structure as the other units turned their weapons in the direction of the Pelican and began to fire. Aeona immediately reduced engine power, severely reducing the D79S' altitude before tilting hard-left and re-energizing the thrusters, swinging the ONI bird around and swiftly repositioning the airframe on the other side of the colossal structure.

Halfway through the maneuver, misfortune struck. PFC Gerald Delve - still partially unfamilar with the HOPLITE MKI armor he had been given - had evidently forgotten to magnetize his armor to the Pelican.  
The first evasive maneuver had dislodged him from his seat. The following turn had almost pitched him from it. And the rapid acceleration pulled him right out of the Pelican, the unfortunate Marine flying past the Spartan sharpshooter and out over the city.

* * *

 **UNKNOWN ISLAND-CITY LANDMASS - INDUSTRIAL REFUGIA**  
 **MODULE ECHO/FIVE**  
 **APPROACHING COMMAND DECK**

Spartan Clarke breathed a sigh of relief as he closed in on the security door that led directly into the control chamber. He had entered on the ground level and had been forced to participate in a series of considerably strenuous obstacle courses that increased in difficulty as the soldier had traveled upwards, made worse by the ever-increasing artificial gravity of the higher levels.  
Luckily, whatever sub-command intelligence that was in charge here hadn't tried to outright kill him. Yet. Every now and again he caught a glimpse of the construct as it flickered around, offering what some might have considered supportive phrases before dashing off.

The Module Two subcommander was a repurposed gambling AI stolen off of an UNSC officer's TACPAD. Module Three's subcommander had come out of a library. And Module Five had evidentally been a fitness instructor in its previous profession.

At least this was the last door before the command deck, if the schematics on his HUD were to be taken as reliable. ' _Reach the command station, realign the module, then... rest until the Longsword comes around to pick me up_.' Simple.

Standing in front of the door, the Spartan used his interface device to open it, not even the slightest bit tempted to humor the asshole intelligence by attempting to solve the puzzle put before him. SIV-311 smirked as the puzzle crackled away and the heavy doors slid open, the standard command deck layout greeting him as he entered. Striding to the control node, he pulled up the relevant menu on the interface device and began the activation trapezoidal columns began to tilt, as was usual. The decorative lighting started to flow down their respective segments, faint wisps of energy emanating from the bases of each section and consolidating in the center. All standard fare.  
What wasn't standard fare was the set of active consoles on the other end of the chamber, now visible after the segment blocking his view had angled itself out of his line of sight. That explained where the baffler field controls were.

Thirty seconds later, the node had activated, the protective physical shielding had deployed, and the module was realigned to the greater network. Aeona's voice abruptly sounded over his helmet's comms, urgency readily apparent in her tone.  
" _-ted all attention to urban refugia. The enemy has pivoted its theater-wide attention to the urban refugia. SIV-322 is on the ground conducting rescue and retrieval mission_."

"Wait, what? Aeona, repeat your last?"

" _Private First Class Gerald Delve took insufficient precautions and was ejected from D97S Golf-33 while the aircraft was conducting emergency maneuvers to avoid being shot down. The PFC's thruster pack slowed the fall to within survivable metrics, but he was still injured upon contact with the ground. The enemy has arrived in force in the surrounding area, and performing an aerial extraction in the immediate vicinity is now impossible without heavy loss of life and available assets."_

"You mentioned that Martinez-"

" _SPARTAN-IV-322 performed an aerial insertion after enemy forces began a strategic shift in the direction of the unknown alien party. Both UNSC personnel on the ground in the zone of activity have taken cover in a structure to the southeast of UR/LS3,_ " the synthetic intelligence explained as Apex LEAD sprinted out of the control node chamber and down a passageway. " _The enemy has not yet discovered their presence in the zone, and have as of now, not attempted to enter any structure in the area. They seem content with trapping the unknown aliens within UR/LS3, and have not yet attempted entry themselves._ "

"Aeona, mark navpoints for roof access and get our Longsword in the air, ASAP. Tell them to load incendiary ordnance if they have any. Get the Broadswords to poke the enemy from the rear, see if we can pull attention back to us. Can we count on any Sentinel support?"

" _Not enough to matter. Our Sentinels are spread thin as is. I have prioritized rapid expansion-_ "

"We'll have to make do with what we got, then," Clarke huffed, entering the marked gravity lift and keying his armor's jetpack attachment to gain altitude quicker. "Current battle plan?"

" _Observe the behavior of the enemy. SPARTAN-IV-322 and PFC Gerald Delve have not yet been detected by the enemy despite their substantial numerical presence in the vicinity, and this is unlikely to change unless the enemy begins to search nearby structures. Forcing a confrontation with our current force carries a high risk of personnel and unit loss. We have the opportunity to move assets to the zone of activity in the urban refugia, which is being done. Bravo Zebra has been embarked on AV-14s and will be overhead in approximately six minutes. This module's closest extraction pad has been marked as their LZ. Be there in five or wait for Delta-11 to finish maintenance._ "

* * *

 **METRU NUI - KO-METRU**  
 **RESISTANCE COMPOUND**

" _A Toa team? You are certain of this?_ "

"Mirek was, and I trusted his word."

" _Where is Mirek now?_ "

"He was... taken on our way back to deliver this report. One of the Visorak's monsters caught him, and his screams... they still haunt all of us."

" _We've lost contact with our brothers in Ta-Metru. Their last message detailed a plan to make contact with the swarmers. They are either no longer able to report on the outcome, or the Visorak have intercepted their couriers. Both possibilities are... troublesome. Sarna, too, has not yet reported back from her reconnaissance mission in Po-Metru. And the Rahaga seem more concerned with saving Rahi than with helping our campaign. If what Mirek saw was true... then the Toa are our only hope of salvation. And if we fail to save them... then at least we will go down fighting together._ "


End file.
